


The Crashing of Waves

by reybearsnaughtypaw



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ahch-To, Angst, Ben Solo Deserved Better, Ben Solo Lives, Ben Solo is a Mess, Ben Solo is lost, Caretakers - Freeform, Depression, F/M, Falling In Love, First Time, French Kissing, Grief/Mourning, Horniness, Kissing, Making Out, Masturbation, POV Ben Solo, POV Rey (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Redeemed Ben Solo, Rey (Star Wars) is a Mess, Rey Needs A Hug, Rey is angry and trying not to show it, Reylo - Freeform, Sadness, Separated Lovers, Sex, Sexual Content, Soft Ben Solo, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Fix-It, Temporary Amnesia, Vaginal Sex, Virgin Ben Solo, Where the hell is Ben Solo, broken force bond, crying in the night, lovers reunited, naked and confused, porg cuteness, porgs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:19:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 65,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22618501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reybearsnaughtypaw/pseuds/reybearsnaughtypaw
Summary: Set a few days after the end of The Rise of Skywalker Ben Solo wakes up freezing cold and naked somewhere he doesn't recognise. He doesn't even know who he is.Rey is on Arjan Kloss, in deep distress at losing Ben and trying desperately not to show it or talk about what happened. The Resistance are busy rebuilding but Rey isn't interested in a future without her soulmate and other half of the Dyad.'Darkness.He was in darkness. It seemed familiar but he didn’t know why. He felt pain and it took a few moments to realise that he was cold, bitterly cold. He became aware of a jerking sensation, of a rasping sound. And it was coming from him.It was so painful. Happy faces and smiles everywhere. The only smile Rey could see was Ben’s, his wide toothy grin after they’d kissed. But she would never see it again.'Themes - angst, consequences, slow burn, eroticism, POV Ben and Rey.
Relationships: Ben Solo/Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 311
Kudos: 280





	1. Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my first full Reylo fic!  
> Expect angst, slow burn, drama! and comedy, tender cuteness, plus eroticism and PoV from both Ben and Rey.  
> This is a complete work of 25 chapters.
> 
> The story will continue in Autumn 2021 as a new work.

Chapter 1 Cold

Darkness. 

He was in darkness. It seemed familiar but he didn’t know why. He felt pain and it took a few moments to realise that he was cold, bitterly cold. An image of a desolate wasteland flashed in his mind: flickering sick white light; ragged cracks in the ground. He became aware of a jerking sensation, of a rasping sound. And it was coming from him.

It was so painful. Happy faces and smiles everywhere. The only smile Rey could see was Ben’s, his wide toothy grin after they’d kissed. But she would never see it again. It had faded just before he had. 

She sought solitude, but that soon became overwhelming. The only company she found tolerable for any length of time was that of the round astromech droid BB-8. At night she could see his lights blinking in the gloom like a comforting constellation of reds and blues. She only cried at night, when she allowed the pain to claim her along with the shadows. Shaking, she buried her face in Ben’s dusty torn black undershirt to muffle her sobs.

His body was convulsing and his breaths came out sharp and fast. He opened his eyes, trying to still himself but failing. He needed air, but the air was cold. He coughed and it hurt. He was curled up naked, shivering, and lying on icy hard rock. With juddering difficulty he eased himself up to a sitting position.

“No, no,” he panted as he took in his surroundings. Judging from the grey dim light he was underground. He felt terror tug at him as he surveyed the rocky walls which surrounded him. It looked familiar and he winced at the cold and from trying to remember. He ached all over, as though he’d been crushed from both the outside and in. He longed to lie in oblivion again. Yet this dank place was not a good one. He felt a chill which went beyond temperature and a darkness which went beyond sight.

It wanted him. 

He scrabbled so that he was on all fours and shakily crawled along the wet rocky floor. There was a glimmer of grey light and he made his way to it. Over his loud breathing he could hear a steady relentless crashing noise. He kept moving, hoping that whatever was out there was not as terrible as what he was leaving behind.

Rey woke up with her heart pounding. She’d been dreaming of Ahch-To. It had felt so vivid: the cold air; the spit of water always never far away; the crashing boom of the waves. It was when she’d found herself alone in that cave that she’d felt the surge of fear which had woken her. She gasped aloud, trembling. She was also freezing cold. 

“Rey?” Finn, slouched in a chair, a blanket pooling in his lap, sounded alarmed.  
He looked horrified as she shivered and pulled her blankets around herself.  
He leaned forward. “Rey? Are you ill?”  
“No. Oh, I don’t know,” she tried to sound calm. She didn’t want to snap at him but she was perturbed to find him in her tent while she’d been asleep. She wondered how long he’d been there and even if this wasn’t the first time he’d assigned himself to be her guard.  
“Rey, we’re worried about you,” he told her. “I’m worried. Something is very wrong.”  
Rey looked away. He was too close. His eyes were fixed on hers, unwavering.  
“It’s...”  
“It’s him, isn’t it? Kylo Ren?” he asked, frowning.  
“Not Kylo. Ben. He was Ben.” She pulled the blankets over herself and turned away on her side, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from breaking down.

He lay on a grassy hillside heaving sobs of relief to be out of the cloying cave. Clouds roiled overhead and jagged rocks broke the skyline. In front of him crashed the sea, as grey and turbulent as the sky.  
He didn’t know where this cold place was. He crouched in the wet grass with his arms around his knees, rocking to and fro. He had no idea who he was. Stricken, he whipped his head from side to side. 

He was alone.

He fell sideways, hugging himself, shivering, torn between trying to spend what little energy he had to keep warm and letting the cold claim him in floods of numbness. He squeezed his eyes shut and let the numbness and the darkness claim him.

He was weighed down. Something was on him. The malevolent darkness from the cave had found a way to become shape and smother him. A bright stab of panic hit him before he realised he was no longer shivering. He was warm. He began to register sensations. He felt scratches, tickles, squirming.  
Then a sharp pain followed by another, piercing through his stupor. Little nips on his shoulder and on his thigh, then a deep one right on his ass.  
“Hey!” His voice was hoarse. He was answered by a trilling cry and the ragged sound of flapping.  
He struggled to move, tried to swipe with his hand. Another nip on his ass made him cry out.  
“Ow!” he exclaimed, and he had enough adrenaline now to raise himself on his elbow and open his eyes.

He was covered in tiny creatures. Brown and white and grey pudgy bodies were snuggled against him. Some had fallen to the grass as he’d risen, but most were still pressed to him. They stared at him solemnly with big black eyes. He was astonished and grateful despite the rank oily smell which rose from them as they wriggled close to him. He twisted round to try and discover the culprit which had been snacking on his ass.  
“Which one of ...” he began shakily but some of the creatures were looking into the distance. A moment later several hopped away and began their scratchy trilling call.  
Ben swept back his black hair from over his eyes and followed their gaze. Something bigger was on its way.

Finn leaned over her, touching her shoulder.  
“What do you mean, Ben? What happened, Rey?”  
Rey stiffened as she reined in her irritation. It was difficult with Finn being so close, his voice too loud. She couldn’t believe that he was Force sensitive as he didn’t seemed to register her discomfort. Or he did and he ignored it. That thought, along with his hand still on her, made her irritation rise like a red flare.  
“Why won’t you talk to me?” he persisted.  
She shook him off. “Leave me alone, Finn.”  
“No. That’s why you’re in a mess. You spend too much time alone. We need you, Rey.”  
He hesitated. She knew his next words. He needed her. It was insufferable.

She only needed one person. She needed Ben Solo; just as she needed oxygen and water and food. He had come back for her, appearing in a blaze of light and longing and love. His eyes had shone and he had given himself up so she could live. Then he had gone, leaving her alone. She hated him for that.  
She hated him and she loved him as she always had. She sighed heavily and turned onto her back.  
“Finn,” she muttered, “Give me a few minutes. Take BB-8 out for a maintenance check. I’ll be out soon.”

More creatures he didn’t recognise lumbered towards him. They were squat grey beings with ugly yet kind faces. They gathered around him and spoke but he didn’t understand. He tried to stand, but fell over backwards and sprawled in the grass. His pudgy protectors scattered and flapped. The creatures squawked and covered their eyes. He quickly felt shame, covering his crotch with his hands, hunching over.  
“Please help me,” he begged.

One of them tugged off their apron and laid it over him. The others gestured to where they had come from and they helped him up. The price of making it out of that cave was filthy hands and torn knees and he winced and wiped his palms on his thighs. The creatures patted at him, muttering and then shuffled away, gesturing for him to follow them. He stumbled after them, clutching the small cream apron around his waist with one hand and using the other outstretched for balance. His hair swung in his eyes and he was blinded by tears. He couldn’t stop the sobs of gratitude just as he couldn't stop his tiny saviours following in his wake like a waddling brown and white flotilla.

Rey stumbled out of her tent, fastening her holster. The Resistance was still camped on the forest on Ajan Kloss. After a whirlwind of planet visits to chase artefacts at a breakneck speed most people wanted to stay in one place for a while. Meetings were held, some people were dispatched, and while most came back, some did not. New people joined, bringing ships and supplies and news. Everyone was hungry for all three except for Rey. She wanted Ben so badly that every moment of being conscious hurt. She found the best respite was in sleep and when awake she slipped back to repairing things. Luckily there was a lot to do and she headed along the tangled forest track to the wide clearing designated as the shipping bay.

She was pleased to find no sign of Finn and that he seemed to have obeyed her in taking the droid to the maintenance area. She headed for Red Five, Master Skywalker’s X-Wing. A couple of men were already bent to their work, soldering and scrubbing at its dented and rusty body. As Rey released her soldering iron from its metal trunk, Davv Irek, one of the few maintenance personnel she found she could tolerate, said, “Forget that, Rey. Poe Dameron’s been looking for you.”  
Rey huffed and checked her iron. It was a good one, salvaged from the first wave of sized First Order supplies. “He always is. What’s new?”  
Davv regarded her seriously, his face already grimy even this early in the day. “He was with Commander D’Acy and two others I didn’t recognise. One,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “looked like First Order, uhm, ex-First Order.”  
Rey was still but her mind spun and hummed like the grinding disc being used just above her. “Did they say what they wanted?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.  
Davv looked away, but she knew before the words came out of his mouth.  
“They want to talk to you about Kylo Ren.”


	2. Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is taken to a village by a cove and tended to by the creatures on the island while on Arjan Kloss Rey prepares for her interview about Kylo Ren.

Chapter 2 Water. 

“In there?” he asked. “You want me to get in there?”

Nods from the small hooded grey creatures were accompanied by noises he understood to be of agreement. Some sounded more firm than others. He was in a wooden shelter with two small windows and a stone floor. He instinctively shuffled nearer to the flames which were flickering vigorously in the large fireplace. It was tricky not to knock over the drying racks which were strewn with assorted cloths and sheets. 

A blanket was draped around his shoulders and he clutched another one around his waist. Despite his new coverings he still shivered as if the cold from the cave had seeped deep inside him and solidified. In front of him was a large wooden tub, wisps of steam rising gently above its rim.

One of the creatures stirred in more water and dipped in her elbow. She nodded in satisfaction and motioned him over. He shed the blanket covering his torso and still holding the blanket wrapped around his waist he hoisted his right leg up to step into his makeshift bath. It wasn’t very high, but he wobbled. He still felt weak from the harsh journey from the hillside by the cave to the little village in the cove. Three more grey creatures had met them halfway, stalking over the hillocks on bird-like legs, laden with blankets. He was desperately cold and his eyes watered from the biting wind which whipped around him like a snarling animal. 

In the still warmth of the hut the creature who had filled his bath held out her arm to steady him. “Thank you,” he breathed shakily.  
Stood in the tub he felt vulnerable and shy but he lifted his chin, cleared his throat and faced his audience.  
“Do you want to see the front, or the back or the side of me?” he asked, gesturing to his lower half. 

Silence. He mimed removing the blanket and pulled an exaggerated embarrassed face. To his relief the creatures muttered and pointedly turned away while he unwound the blanket from his waist. Two faced the doorway and the one nearest turned to the fire to poke at the burning logs. He trembled again as the air hit his nakedness before he carefully lowered himself into the water. It was perfect. Not hot enough to scald but enough to soothe and thaw him. Water sloshed out as he wriggled himself into a sitting position. 

The creatures clucked their approval and seemed to find his cramped position comical. He was folded with his knees up to his chest, his elbows hanging over the rim. One of his carers handed him a lumpy piece of sharp-smelling soap and a small brush. While he applied lather to himself as best as he could the others fussed about with ladles and the fire and straightening out laundry. Two of the little sea birds had waddled in to view the unusual consignment of laundry. Their tiny claws clicked on the wet slabs as they approached his tub.  
“Don’t even think about joining me,” he told them as he soaped his armpits.  
They looked up at him solemnly, black eyes lit by flashes of firelight.

He lathered his hair and soap trickled into his eyes. One of his attendants heard his cry of discomfort and passed him a cloth so he could dry his eyes. Then she held up a large wooden ladle and mimed a pouring motion.  
He nodded. Two of them sluiced him down with clean warm water and it felt glorious. His hair flattened over his ears and face, his skin tingled and foamy water gushed down into his lap.  
Above the whoosh of water he heard his carers whistling and adding percussion to the song by banging something hollow. He remembered this happening to him before, a long time ago, when he was a small boy. A brief slippery memory of a woman surfaced as he was rinsed. He recalled a snatch of song, the sharp tugs as she combed out his wet mop of hair. Then he heard her tender voice like a splash in the murky pool of his mind. “All clean now, my little starfighter.” 

It was his mother. 

He gasped, swiping his hair from his eyes, motioning the creatures to stop. His two attendants patted at him, concerned. Little Starfighter. He had a name of sorts and a mother who had loved him. He pressed his lips together to dam the rush of emotion. He ached with longing. How could he miss someone he couldn’t really remember? But he did. 

There was a dark chilly chasm inside him and he needed love to fill it. To warm it just as his carers were defrosting him. To fill it with light as reassuring and gentle as the firelight. These creatures had taken him in and were caring for him like mothers. He wanted to acknowledge this, but the gratitude that welled up was so immense that he couldn’t speak. He smiled, nodding for them to carry on. As the water cascaded over him he tilted back his head and let it wash away his tears. 

On Arjan Kloss Rey splashed water on her face, shook her head and wiped the last drops from her eyes. She was in a small shed which contained a jumble of tools and buckets and on a shelf stood a bowl she’d filled with water. She felt a little better after her brief ablutions, a sense of comfort which seemed to go beyond her. She exhaled. It was a peculiar sensation, like waking this morning and feeling cold. 

She stretched out her thoughts but nothing came back, nothing useful or clear. It felt similar to before her awakening in the Force, just a hazy feeling of otherness. Besides, her mind was on the summons from D’Acy. It was not the most conducive time to be exploring the Force. 

The questioning could no longer be avoided and while she tidied herself up she thought of what she would say. Kylo Ren was irrelevant now. A mirage. That was fine. Yes, she could talk about him. She could talk about the Supreme Leader, hidden again behind his grim mask. She could disclose how this man had spent the last weeks chasing her, taunting her, pulling out her anger on the tractor beam of his obsession.

In the blasting heat of the Pasaanan desert she had tried to destroy him. She’d crashed his ship which had borne down on her with the same relentless arrogant aggression that he’d used when he’d captured and interrogated her. But as on Starkiller Base she had outwitted him, using her own formidable powers to defend herself. 

But she would not describe how he’d strolled from the wreckage with his cape billowing and his wavy hair blowing back. For a moment she had recognised Ben with his soft brown eyes. Before seeing his black outline, she’d had some hope that, as he hadn’t turned his TIE’s weapons on her, he came in peace. 

At last. He’d removed his mask and come as Ben Solo, Prince of Alderaan. He looked noble and handsome as he walked towards her and for the first time in what seemed like ages her heart soared with joy at the sight of him. Ben. Their pointless war with each other would end and they would unite their forces to fight Palpatine. 

But then there came all that stupidity playing tug of war with the transport ship. He was toying with her again and she’d allowed herself to be angry at him. There are been witnesses to that anger, victims of it. She brushed herself down quickly, rubbing at a grass stain on her pale trousers. She was angry at Kylo. She could talk about that, focus her mind on him. 

She had no tears for Kylo Ren. 

But for Ben Solo, her love, she had a lifetime of tears. She would keep them stored away in her own private aquifer, deep and still and sacred.  
They could ask her everything about Kylo. But she would never say anything about Ben. She had recklessly let slip to Finn earlier. Ben’s name had escaped in a moment of weakness due to her emerging from a disturbing dream and her irritation at Finn’s presence. 

She promised herself not to mention Ben again. Not to anyone. If she did, she knew she would cry and she didn’t want any witnesses to her grief. 

She took the bowl outside and tipped out the water onto the grass. Again, that strange sensation from far away. She felt water being poured onto her as she watched the water from the bowl run into the ground. She wondered if this was the next stage in her Force awareness, that she could feel her surroundings, as if she was them. She made a mental note to check the texts and headed back to the main camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben settles down for his first night with the Caretakers of Ahch-To on the island but starts to have a disturbing feeling of a traumatic event.

Chapter 3 – Fire  
Pink-skinned and tingling he wrapped a soft cloth around his waist. He dried himself meticulously with another cloth, perched on a stool by the fire. He rubbed and stretched and sighed his pleasure. His attendants watched, their wide thin mouths curved by gentle smiles.  
The leader, marked by a round white necklace and a determined matronly bearing, brought him a neat dark bundle of clothes. He shook them out to inspect them and was startled. The loose style and texture were familiar. Someone he knew had worn these. Then a word came to him, as quick and sharp as a peck on the ass.  
“Jedi?” he asked.  
The leader paused and said something he didn’t understand but the tone of it indicated that he was correct. 

Jedi.  
The word rang around his head like the sound of water-drops in the cave.  
Jedi. 

He wondered if he was a Jedi and if so, what it was. The creatures seemed pleased with his reaction. He was pleased to have clothes on, despite them being too baggy around the waist and too short in the arms and legs. A pair of chunky brown socks was included and he pulled them up to mid calf. He felt as wonderfully warm as a bread roll just slid from the oven.

Then food arrived. Bowls of broth still bubbling from the stove were brought in on a savoury waft which set his stomach growling. It was deliciously chunky with vegetables and fish. He remembered he liked fish but he sensed it was a long time ago. It wasn’t like the food he had an inkling he’d eaten recently. He had an impression of dull piles on shiny trays usually eaten in a rush rather than with the relish he employed now. 

Here on his stool by the fire he demolished three bowls and two discs of knobbly bread, some of which he used to mop his bowl clean. He burped and then instinctively covered his mouth, but his small waiting staff merely nodded.  
“I guess that turning up stark naked in a freezing cave gives you quite the appetite,” he explained to the leader. And then he burped again, even louder.

After a couple of soothing mugs of hot herbal tea, a makeshift bed was prepared for him. A dense mat was unrolled near the fire and covered with a thinner softer one. He was glad to be able to lie down. He was covered in a light blanket before a heavier, more densely woven one was added. He appreciated his carers not moving him out of the hut as after his meal he needed to lie still and sleep. The food and the fire worked their soporific effect and moments later he slipped easily into a doze. 

He was woken by a now familiar trilling cry. At first he thought he was back outside in that gusty hillside. He experienced a few seconds of alarmed confusion before he registered his cocoon of bedclothes, the orange flicker of firelight. But he hadn’t dreamed the noise. A trio of the pudgy seabirds appeared almost at eye level to him. They shuffled towards him, and one poked its small wing at the blanket.  
“So you want to come in here, huh?” he asked.  
The response was a distinctly plaintive twitter.  
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he told them, shaking his head with a smile. “I don’t want you biting my ass or,” under the covers he reflexively placed his hand between his legs, “or something else.” 

He lay curled on his side eying them carefully. “I may have lost my memory but I don’t want to lose anything else.”  
They twittered pathetically and he swore their little mouths became more downturned. He wondered if these three were part of the crew who had formed themselves into a living blanket and most likely stopped him from dying of hypothermia.  
“Alright,” he relented. He patted the cover and made a little hollow between his stomach and knees.  
They hopped on with what sounded like delighted squawks. He felt their weight shift around as they settled, smelled their briny odour above the woody smokiness of the fire. 

The fire snapped and spluttered and he started drifting back into sleep. The sounds of the fire kindled a memory. He remembered a fire which had been a regular focus. There were people around it with him, and he recalled quiet voices, murmurs and laughter, fragments of song. He remembered a tug of longing. The forms around the fire weren’t his friends exactly, but he wanted them to be. He bent his mind to recall more details, but the shapes broke up like the smoke on the air and he was left with that yearning unease. He had wanted to belong even then, wherever and whoever he was.

Now he lacked identity as well as clothes. He shivered with fear and huddled deeper inside his blankets. He dreaded to think of passing the rest of his days like this, nameless and haunted by memories which made little sense. He had been washed up in the cave and was now reliant on the mercy of his grey small carers. The island seemed remote and desolate and he was certain that he and his carers along with the seabirds were its only inhabitants.

He felt like he’d been through an awful experience. It was something terrible and black and frightening and he was scared that it was still lurking, perhaps in the cave, waiting to claim him again. He let out a sob, hiding his face in the blanket. His bedfellows trilled quietly and he heard the shuffle of footsteps. One of his carers was keeping watch and for this he was glad. She murmured and patted his shoulder and he muttered, “Thank you. I’ll be okay. I just got spooked by the dark.”

She clattered about and a few moments later she placed a large lantern by the foot of his bed. It cast a cheerful glow and the shadows in the hut grew smaller. She returned to her chair, took up a bundle of knitting and began to sing softly. He watched her for a while and reached his hand out to pet the seabirds nestled on his bed. They squirmed and wriggled under his hand, emitting little cheeping cries. Breathing deeply he closed his eyes and thought of his mother washing him, the feel of her hands on his hair, her low husky voice. He fastened on to these small memories and clutched the blanket to his cheek and finally felt soothed enough to sleep.


	4. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben's dreams give him one important answer while Rey's answers as to the whereabouts of Kylo Ren don't seem to be satisfying her superiors.

Chapter 4 – Questions

A booming noise. A flash of light. He was falling. He was going to die. He flailed desperately in the air. He landed with a heart-stopping wrench and found he was in his nest of blankets, sweating and terrified. His mind had returned to the place illuminated with the sick light.  
The place with the pit.  
His heart pounded as fiercely as it had done then. Fear like he’d never known before engulfed him. Fear not just for him, but for another. He remembered being trapped in the ragged stony pit and above the wild thrum of his heart he recalled a voice. A woman cried out one word.  
“Ben!”

Ben. His name.  
Despite his horror he was elated.  
He was Ben. He huffed to himself, sitting up and shaking his head. His avian bed companions squeaked their complaints at being jolted for the second time.  
Ben.  
He marvelled at it, eyes dancing around the lamp lit hut.  
Ben.  
Yet that name seemed old, seldom used. He sensed there was another one, more recent, comprised of two words. But he couldn’t grasp them.

“Kylo Ren.” Rey sighed out the name. “Kylo Ren is dead. Why won’t you believe me?” she asked her three inquisitors, her frustration rising with her voice.  
“How many times do I have to tell you? We’ve spent enough time on this.”She was almost pleading with them and hated herself for it. 

But she longed to escape their scrutiny and the dimly lit shelter which had become centre of operations. One half contained a huddle of technav screens and signalling devices. The other half was screened off and held assorted items which served as seats, and where Rey was being questioned. She was on an old A-wing pilot seat while the ex-First Order man and two Resistance commanders were perched on barrels which were at different heights. It added to Rey’s sense of unease that she had to keep shifting her gaze up and down their row. Poe Dameron stood by the opening to the navigation area, ensuring that no one came in or lingered close enough to listen.

“Rey, your story isn’t credible,” said Avarr Targen, the ex-First Order officer. He was tall and lean with deep set eyes. The way the shadows settled on his sharp features gave him a disagreeable air.  
“I can’t believe that you stabbed Kylo Ren with his own lightsaber,” added Resistance Commander Beyanga. He had a reputation for being a stickler for details which he seemed to be doing his best to uphold.  
“Believe it. I did,” Rey replied, making her voice extra firm. She had difficulty believing it herself. 

She and Kylo Ren had been duelling on the freezing, ocean-drenched remains of the Death Star on Kef Bir. The waves roiled and crashed in rhythm with Rey’s rage. She was angry at him for taunting her, for crushing the wayfinder. Her loathing for him returned and she wanted to crush him once and for all. Her hate was so severe that she thought it would rebuff the waves, that the heat of her fury would turn the water to steam. It gave her the energy to attack Kylo despite him being larger. He swung clumsily at her to block her relentless saber blows.  
His turbulent Force signature contained anger but his familiar mix of fear and need were still there. She also sensed weariness. He almost slipped a few times and she tried to press her advantage. Most potently, like a deep current of cold water, was Kylo’s desire. 

He still wanted her. 

He used it to sunder apart the sheets of water to clear a path to her. His red saber hissed and sputtered and his face was grim, his jaw clenched, his eyes glaring. She didn’t want to look into those eyes. She was afraid of wanting him too. To prevent him sensing this she lashed out again, a frenzied sea-soaked dervish.  
Then, incredibly, he paused. Something shifted in him and the moment he dropped his saber she was ready. She had no hesitation, no awareness of needing to spare him. She pierced him swiftly and surely. 

“Where did his body go, Rey? That’s all we’re trying to find out,” D’Acy inquired in a quiet voice.  
Rey gnawed at her bottom lip. There was no body, she almost blurted out. He just vanished! My beautiful big boy just fell back and faded to nothing. I held his hand to keep him with me but it wasn’t enough. She felt her face begin to break apart.  
Gripping the side of her seat, she wrenched her mind back to the Death Star. She pictured him lying stunned, his soaked dark hair smeared and messy. He was chalky pale and his red lips were twisted with shock. He looked like Ben then, haunted and vulnerable. 

“I left him lying there, on the wreckage. But he was definitely dead,” she told them quickly to cover the lie. People always said that she was easy to read, that her facial expressions clearly transmitted her emotions. She strained to maintain a steady serious look.  
“Then you went to Exegol and defeated the Emperor. You say that you went alone. So you just hopped into a highly customised, complex First Order ship and managed to fly it?” Ex-First Order Targen challenged.  
“Yes, I took Kylo Ren’s TIE fighter and I flew it. On my own. It’s based on older TIE fighter models and I have salvaged parts from them.” At least that part was true. She had left him lying there before robbing his glorious piece of tech.  
She had to adjust the flexible seat and feet mounts to fit her dimensions but with the slick controls, the increased speed and spacious cockpit it had been a joy to pilot. His ship was indeed glorious. The man had taste. She wanted to tell him that when he appeared on Exegol. It was the first thing that popped into her head. She guessed that facing her Sith grandfather did ridiculous things to her brain.  
“But I didn’t go to Exegol in his ship.” 

They all frowned before D’Acy leaned forward and inquired, “Then where did you go, Rey?”  
She flew to Ahch-To to exile herself before she damaged others. Shocked at the strength of her dark hate she fled. Kylo lay pale-faced and bewildered at his seeming demise and then revival at her hands. But before she left she had told him the truth that she had been trying to keep submerged.  
“I did want to take your hand. Ben’s hand,” she acknowledged before turning her back on him.  
“I took his ship to Ahch-To,” she began to tell her interviewers, and once again there was that shimmery feeling. She heard the insistent swoosh of the sea and somehow it calmed her and gave her the courage to continue.

He took the top blanket and used it as a cape as he slipped out of his bed. He arranged his avian friends in a little nest by his pillow, shushing them. His carer was asleep, wool strewn in her lap, oblivious to his disturbance. He smiled at her, picked up her wool and placed it neatly by her chair. He took the lantern and padded outside in his thick coarse socks.  
It was dark and the whoosh of the waves was loud and near. It calmed him. The breeze ruffled his hair and he closed his eyes, feeling the air tickle his face. The wind and waves seemed to hold his name in the cool night air. Ben.  
He pulled his blanket around him tighter and peered out. Several lanterns bobbed on a string along by a path to his left, their yellow light erratic yet enchanting. He glimpsed in his mind something similar, torches of fire, people huddled and frightened. He huffed again, shaking his hair from his eyes. His past was as dark and vast and unknown as the ocean which heaved in front of him.

He knew he was a man, a man called Ben. The other, newer name was elusive and he sensed it sounded similar. He knew words for things, he knew he had straggly black hair and he was taller than the erstwhile occupant of his clothes. The creatures, who had taken him into their care, had seen his kind before. There was the word Jedi strongly associated with the clothes he now wore. These things he knew. He also recognised feelings of awe and fear when he turned over the word Jedi in his mind. But when he tried to snag it further it broke up, merging with the shadows. It seemed that his memory was returning like the torn cloud fragments which scudded over the gleaming moon. He was desperate to know and yet desperately afraid.

“So you travelled to Ahch-To,” summarised Targen when Rey had finished and was sipping from a cup of water. “Where you intended to stay until,” he flicked at his data pad with long fingers, “the ghost of Luke Skywalker persuaded you to leave and hefted his ship out of the sea.”  
“In full working order!” interjected Beyanga with a raised eyebrow. “Did the Force help you mend it?”

Rey scowled at him. “No. I told you that he had kept parts on the island. And the rot from the sea wasn’t that extensive.”  
“Here is our theory,” Targen announced. “You and Kylo Ren went to Ahch-To. The TIE whisper,”  
“The TIE what?” she interrupted.  
“The TIE whisper, as well as being equipped with increased velocity and firepower, also had two seats.”  
“It did,” she agreed. She had noticed that but only now thought it odd. Supreme Leader Ren may have anticipated needing added protection while flying, yet both times she had witnessed him aboard his TIE he had piloted alone. Which meant ... she thought of his words, “The only way you’re going to Exegol is with me.” A ship built for two. Kylo and Rey strapped back to back. It was probably Kylo Ren’s idea of romance. She wondered if he had a cosy blanket stowed away along with luxury food packs and perhaps a bottle of Corellian liquor.

“Yes, it did. And Kylo Ren was in one of them when you left Kef Bir, wasn’t he?” Targen’s mean eyes were locked on hers.  
“No, he wasn’t with me!” she exclaimed in frustration. “I said he was dead. On that wreckage.”  
“So, Rey, tell me this one more time. You left him as he was? He was fully dressed?”  
“Yes.”  
“Describe him.”  
“He was wearing his black cape, his tunic, his leather belt, large boots ... oh, what has this to do with anything?”  
“It has to do with everything. Why do you insist on lying?”

Then he reached behind him and took out a canvas bag. From the bag he took out a familiar garment. It was Kylo Ren’s padded black tunic and attached to it, flowing over Targen’s knees to the floor, was Kylo’s black hooded cape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	5. Wreckage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey's questioning about the whereabouts of Kylo Ren continues as she is faced with a surprising object which she never thought she'd never see again.

Chapter 5 - Wreckage 

“This was found in the ocean not far from the Death Star wreckage,” Targen announced, holding up and surveying Kylo’s tunic and cape as if he was choosing it to wear himself.  
Rey couldn’t speak. Poe Dameron stepped from the doorway. He looked as stricken as Rey felt.  
“Ren had this sewed into his tunic.” Targen held up a small silver button. “It’s a tracker.” 

Rey gawped like the monstrous fish she’d seen Master Skywalker spear on Ahch-To.  
The next thing Targen held up made her feel like she herself had been speared. It was a small loop of brown beads, her necklace from Pasaana. Or part of it, made into a smaller one, one that could fit round the wrist. “This was sewed inside the right sleeve,” Targen explained.

Rey felt a swoop of giddiness.  
“Do you recognise it?” Beyanga asked, leaning forward.  
“No.” One word uttered but a thousand words inside her mind tumbling like the ocean on Keff Bir. The looks of disbelief intensified so Rey added in a low voice, “Probably some Sith artefact.”  
Targen dangled the beads from his finger, turning them slowly this way and that. “Hmmm, I don’t think so, do you? They look like fertility beads.”

“Oh?” Her mouth was as dry as the Pasaana air on the day when she had gratefully received the necklace.  
“Why would Kylo Ren be wearing fertility beads?”  
“How should I know?” Rey snapped. The tension was weighing on her like those beads had around her neck. That is until Kylo Ren had petulantly snatched them from her through their Force Bond. “Perhaps he was planning to start a family. I mean, he had reached the status of Supreme Leader.”  
She tried to sound flippant but inside the longing for Ben deepened. The thought of him wearing the beads, followed by the vision of him having children almost undid her. The only mother he would have chosen would have been her. She and Ben would have had children. She had seen that future when she had touched his bare fingers in the orange glow of her fire on Ahch-To. She had glimpsed three small shapes nestled around them both. 

That vision had been wrong. Like a lot of things.

Her mouth trembled. So much shining hope and love had guided her like constellations and yet she had ended up alone in a void. She placed one hand on her empty womb and bowed her head, trying to quell the grief at the loss of her future family, her children. 

Targen tossed the beads back into the bag and Rey gripped the edge of her seat to stop herself from Force pulling them to her. She quivered with both the effort and the anger which swept through her. Ben never had the chance to be a father. Ben never had the chance to be anything.  
“Hmm, perhaps you’re right. Perhaps he was ready to become a father,” Targen mused, his voice airy but his dark eyes hard. “There was talk from several sources that he had taken a woman to be his consort.”  
Rey flinched as if he’d reached over and grabbed her.  
Targen stared and she stared back with equal hostility. He was playing with her. He had to be. She knew Kylo Ren had no interest in any woman other than her. She knew it like she knew that he had black hair. She was The Girl, His Girl.

Rey straightened in her seat. “I can’t see what Kylo Ren’s love life has to do with anything,” she said firmly.  
D’Acy, looking sweaty and uncomfortable, added, “Yes, let’s move on. This isn’t relevant.”  
Targen replied smoothly, “I think it might be, but you’re right, let’s move on. The important thing is that we searched the area around the wreckage and we found no body.”  
“Clothes,” added Beyanga, gesturing towards the tunic and cape folded on the ground, “but no body.”  
“What do you have to say about that, Rey?”

Chapter 5 will continue next week! More of Rey's questioning and more of Ben's first night on Ahch-To.


	6. Wreckage continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey's questioning about Kylo Ren is revealed to be of importance to the new Galactic Alliance but it reaches an explosive end. Ben senses another woman calling his name and realises who it is.

Chapter 5 - Wreckage continued

“I’ll tell you exactly what I have to say,” Rey answered loudly, leaning forward. After facing the ruined, monstrous Palpatine and his malevolent entourage she refused to be intimidated by Targen’s sly insinuations.  
“If you found his clothes you saw the ocean. It was violent, wild. Ren could have been washed up anywhere, dragged underneath the wreckage, even eaten by goodness only knows what.”  
Her voice grew louder. Keeping her rising temper in check was like trying to control the Falcon through a crash landing. With the added hindrance of porgs in the cockpit. 

As Rey spoke she envisioned Ben’s poor body abandoned to the icy heaving sea. He could have been torn apart on rocks, his beautiful hair waving in the water like ebony seaweed, his white face battered.  
She grimaced and caught herself, wondered why she was thinking like that. She guessed she was trying to make another end for him. Although it was gruesome at least that scenario had a body. On Exegol Ben had left only his clothes. At night she slept with his undershirt, wrapping its long sleeves around her. Each morning she gently kissed it before folding and concealing it under her mattress like contraband.  
It was like he had never existed. There had been no legendary glowing Force ghost, just a tantalising whisper. “I’ll always be with you.” But she couldn’t be sure if that was truly Ben or simply her greedy imagination. 

But the gaping hole inside reminded her each second that Ben Solo had been real. She was like that Death Star wreckage, so wrought apart and dismantled by his loss that she felt only fit to sink further into dereliction.  
Targen’s dark eyes glittered in the shadows of his bony face.  
“You underestimate our exceptional technology,” he gloated. “We can sweep different terrain for human remains. We can detect bones.”  
Rey remained silent. 

Beyanga spoke next. His round face looked kind, but he was as tenacious as his colleague.  
“We strongly suspect that Kylo Ren is alive. He helped you defeat Palpatine before he went into hiding.”  
“No,” said Rey.  
“And you know where he is,” Targen stated.  
D’Acy interrupted. “That’s some accusation, Commander. There is little to no evidence that Rey knows his location. If,” she gave Targen a hard stare which surprised Rey, “he is actually still alive after being stabbed with a lightsaber.”  
“Thank you,” Rey acknowledged, sensing the Resistance Leader’s growing impatience and unease. She had always liked D’Acy, always thought her plain speaking and fair. She felt bad that she had to be dragged into this ridiculous waste of time. 

D’Acy continued thoughtfully, pointing towards the black pile on the floor.  
“You have examined Ren’s clothes. You have seen that there are holes consistent with Rey’s account of her running him through with his lightsaber. The hole is at the front and also at the back. Kylo Ren was powerful but I doubt that he could have survived such an injury.”  
She rose from her seat, still treating Targen and Beyanga to that cold-as-Hoth stare. Poe watched intently and Rey noticed that his hand slipped to the hilt of his blaster.  
D’Acy straightened her jacket. “I think we should leave this matter now. We need to convene over lunch in the Tantive IV to plan the meeting with the others who are expected today.”

“With respect, Commander, I think that this is of the utmost importance. Please, sit.”  
Targen continued on, as relentless an AT-AT whirring and stomping through a forest. “Kylo Ren is dangerous and obsessive. Rey told us that herself at the very beginning.”  
D’Acy reluctantly resumed her seat but made no effort to hide the displeasure she felt.  
“Tell us where he is, Rey,” urged Beyanga quickly as if the mention of lunch was an extra incentive to pull out the answers.

“He is dead,” Rey replied, the last word ringing out loudly. “You say you have this remarkable technology. So why not continue to look for yourselves? You’ve already started,” she claimed, feeling that blaze of anger surging up once more. She could just reach out and kill them without leaving her seat. She liked that thought.  
She raised one hand, paused.  
“So why all of this? You’re wasting my time.” Her hand waved dismissively. “As Commander D’Acy pointed out, we have a busy day ahead.”

“Yes, you’re busy ... you and Kylo Ren are planning to rule the galaxy yourselves,” Beyanga insisted. Right afterwards, like it had been rehearsed to fling out at the right moment, Targen said,  
“You are a Palpatine.”  
No one spoke. The name hovered in the air like a curse. Kylo had said the exact words to her in the hangar bay. Ridiculous words, Ren’s devious attempt to seduce her with the knowledge of her lineage. Though hearing it out loud in his metallic voice from the depths of his absurd mask had splintered her, it hadn’t worked. For a second time he had extended his leather gloved hand to her. For a second time he had implored her with his pretty brown eyes. For a second time she had refused him. She had shunned him despite him confirming something else she had begun to suspect. That they were indeed two that were one.  
She had been alone and yet a half of another. The other who had ferociously hunted her. The other who had finally saved her. 

She tilted her head, considering.  
“Yes, I am a Palpatine.”  
She was tempted to give a small demonstration of her power, a modest spark of electricity to frighten them, but she was doubtful she could control it. On Pasaana it had manifested from her fury as fierce and fast as a ventral cannon. And now her anger was still churning inside her. She envisioned the sea on Kef Bir breaking on the wreckage, remembered the rage she felt then, the damage she had done. She had killed Kylo Ren. She looked at Targen and Beyanga. She could destroy them now. 

But this wasn’t her. 

She breathed deeply in and deeply out. She heard waves, ones beating steadily against the shore of the island, the soporific swoosh in the dark. She perceived the salty night air on her face as if it was being blown from very far away. She shuddered at the tingly feeling; it was like a faint transmission she couldn’t tune into. She saw Ben on Exegol, his long face lit by the blue lightsaber, so noble and true. She felt calm and true as she announced, “But first I am a Jedi.”  
“I fought that evil,” she continued, “I fought my own flesh and blood. I risked everything to defeat it. Everything.” She brushed away the thought that she lost Ben to it, relieved that they seemed to be listening to her for once. “And you accuse me of harbouring Kylo Ren, of plotting with him.” 

But Targen smiled coldly and his next words chilled her. “We know you had a weird connection to Kylo Ren. It sounded like his obsession with you may have run deeper. As in he was attracted to you.”  
“And you may have been attracted to him,” Beyanga added.  
From his post Poe Dameron laughed. “Now you are getting ridiculous!” he snorted loudly. “Kylo Ren and Rey as a romantic pair? Please!”  
Targen scowled. “That’s enough from you, Commander Dameron.”  
Poe shook his head, shrugged at Rey and turned back to his guard. 

D’Acy frowned at Rey and Rey glanced away.  
“So based on this ... assumption, you are saying that it was easy for Rey and Ren to form a secret alliance?” D’Acy asked Targen. “That they may have been in league with one another during the conflict?”  
Poe’s derisive laugh sounded again.  
Rey’s heart raced. She wondered how anyone had an inkling of this. Unless...Master Skywalker had witnessed their intimate talk in her hut, seen them gazing into each others’ eyes with their hands joined. If he had arrived a few moments later he probably would have seen Ben lean forward to kiss her. She contemplated the possibility of Master Skywalker telling Leia. As a Force Ghost he may have been bored one day, or he may have scribbled down his observations somewhere. She hadn’t read through all the Jedi text books yet.

Anxiety drew a stinging line over Rey’s anger like a ski speeder. Her voice was sharp. “On what evidence? This is all speculation.”  
“You are both grandchildren of powerful Sith Lords. With your dark heritage and combined power you would be unstoppable.”  
“I can’t deny our lineage, but it is not evidence of an alliance, is it?”  
D’Acy glared at Targen as he jabbed at his datapad.  
“Commander, Rey is right,” she told him. “There is no evidence of Ren being still alive and none of Rey knowing where he is and none whatsoever of her being in partnership with him. I have witnesses who say he was trying to kill her. Witnesses on both sides.”  
Rey nodded at D’Acy. 

But Targen wasn’t to be thrown off. He clung on like a slavering rathtar.  
“He needs to be caught, interrogated and imprisoned,” he told them, but this time Rey sensed his anger. He was frustrated with not having the answers but there was something hidden beneath. She tasted it, bitter and old.  
“It’s only a matter of time,” Beyanga said, gently shaking his head as if Rey and D’Acy were the ones being ridiculous.

“Why?” demanded Rey.  
“It’s vital for the Galactic Alliance to ascertain these facts.”  
“Galactic Alliance?” Rey asked, startled.  
“Yes, it’s the Resistance and First Order who are working together. Although there are still First Order factions who resist this,” Beyanga explained. He prissily brushed dust from his shoulder at the last part.  
Rey bit her lips to prevent a smile. Targen himself fitted into this category. She dreaded to consider the type of people who were against an alliance if he was one of the champions of it.

“So, if Kylo Ren is out there you fear that these factions will be drawn to him?” D’Acy asked. “You could have explored this earlier, or even briefed me on this point.”  
Rey allowed a smile as she thought of a new Resistance, the First Order Resistance. It faded quickly as she realised that sides and factions would never be eliminated. Even Force Users took sides. In that moment of quiet despair she was glad Ben wasn’t here to see what he’d sacrificed his life for. The galaxy to which he had returned her was as divided as it had ever been. She felt exhausted at the obligation she felt to him. She had no idea how to help her friends when she could barely help herself. The grief was insurmountable. Scaling wreckage was her speciality and she had made easy work of the dripping sea-rotted Death Star but this was one thing she knew she could not overcome.

It made her feel sick. She decided that he had been right in the Throne Room. To let all things die. To forget the old ways and forge a new one. She should have taken his hand then, even if it was clad in the black glove of Kylo Ren.  
Nothing had changed. She slumped in her seat, regarding Targen, Beyanga and D’Acy as they muttered crossly to each other. This was not a satisfying resolution to decades of war. She didn’t think that there could ever be one. The Skywalkers had always been doomed because they lived in a doomed galaxy.

Master Skywalker had been right as well. He had gone to find what peace he could and let the Jedi end. She should have listened to him instead of thinking she knew it all. She had strutted about the island in her poncho like she had owned it, prying the Jedi Master out of his life like a vexis from its sand burrow. The fish-faced Caretakers had been right too. She had no respect. 

She had a bright sudden urge to go to the island. To make amends. Once more, she heard the sea, felt the fresh whisper of the air. It eased the heaviness inside her; it soothed her as she envisioned a fire-lit hut. But she was doing more than remembering. The warmth of the flames on her face, the rough weight of the blanket on her body was palpable. It was almost like – and she nearly laughed at her own stupidity – the Force connections with Ben. 

Back in his bed, Ben lay on his side swaddled in blankets in another man’s clothes and thought of his mother. He tried to catch her voice, her touch, turn them over in his mind. It comforted yet saddened him. He felt he hadn’t seen her for a long time. He wondered why this had happened, why her Little Starfighter had been parted from her. He realised that she could be lying somewhere in the dark wondering where her son was. He sighed and closed his eyes. The waves rolled outside and the fire hissed and spat. It had been a long night and he longed for morning. He hoped he would sleep until then.

Targen turned to Rey. “This is your last chance. You see our problem. We have no body, no evidence. To some Kylo Ren is alive. This notion jeopardises the success of the Galactic Alliance.”  
D’Acy sighed, looking unhappy and tired. “This is true, Rey. You want to help us? Then please tell us everything.”  
“Look at his clothes,” Rey instructed. “He’s dead. He’s not running around in his underclothes, is he?” Though that had been true. She had pondered why he had appeared on Exegol in a loose dark shirt looking like a bandit. Now she knew he had shed his Supreme Leader layers after she’d left him.  
“He’ll run around naked if he’s desperate and on the run,” snapped Targen.  
“No,” Rey’s voice rose as she snapped back. “He’s dead. He’s DEAD!”

Those words were so final. He had to be dead. She couldn’t feel him. She felt empty raw and hurt. And she could no longer bear it. If only he was running around naked somewhere. If only. Even if he was still hiding behind Kylo Ren. Even as Kylo he was the other half of the Dyad, slotting in with her. She had always felt him there, often like a migraine shimmering, throbbing, insistent. But there all the same. Because what was the point of being a Dyad when you were on your own?  
She glowered at Targen. That they persisted with the notion that he was alive somewhere was ridiculous and yet so incredibly painful. The walls of grief were folding in on her and she couldn’t hold them back any longer. 

She didn’t hear Targen’s next words. Her head thrummed with noise. And then everything broke. 

The shelter was vibrating, dust gathering in the air, the low judder of the Force making Targen and Beyanga wince. D’Acy looked horrified. Poe was about to dash towards her, his mouth open as she lifted her hands. He toppled over and the others were knocked from their seats. She heard shouts and the sound of tearing before she dived to the floor, grabbed Targen’s bag and fled.  
She sobbed and stumbled into the forest, one word tumbling out over and over like a stricken X-wing spinning to its destruction. “Ben!”

Ben was seated on the stoop of the hut eating his breakfast, a thick creamy sweet mixture which warmed his stomach. The waves were breaking gently on the shore, lanterns tinkled in the breeze and the sky was a serene light grey. He was about to get up and investigate the possibility of another bowl or two when he heard a voice. “Ben!”

He felt the anguish tear at him and whipped round to see who it was. There was no one. His carers were busy with their morning chores and only one was inside the hut, tending to the fire. The voice grew louder and he cringed with the pain. His stomach clenched and he was sure he would vomit. Blood crashed in his ears and he felt drowned in waves of sobs. This was not his mother’s voice. He was sure of that. He heard it again, full of despair. “Ben, Ben.” Then tenderly, “Ben, my love, my love.” His heart thumped and he fought for breath as he stared out at the low horizon. 

A woman’s gentle voice. He knew with absolute certainty that it was his lover. A thrill jolted him. His lover. He remembered her smile, a brilliant joyful smile just for him. He felt a spume of love for her so mighty that he fell flat on his back. Dazed, he grappled for her name. The Girl. She was so important. He sat up, his head pounding with his heart. The Girl was this beautiful shining girl who whispered his name like a vow and smiled at him. Yes it was that girl. It was his girl. He struggled to his feet, all thoughts of food abandoned with his empty bowl. He had to find her. She was wailing his name and her pain was savage. He blundered into his hut muttering and laughing. He had to leave right now and find her.


	7. Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben makes a desperate attempt to leave the island and Rey finally lets her grief loose with destructive force.

Chapter 7 - Need

Inside the warm hut he skidded on the stone floor in his socks in his haste to grab an extra blanket. He flailed his arms and babbled, “The girl! The girl!”  
The carer who was resolutely prodding the fire whistled at him in alarm.  
“I have to go!” he exclaimed jubilantly, snatching at his bedclothes. “She needs me!” One of the chubby avians flapped its wings and cawed as he whisked away the cover.  
He was trembling and his socks were damp as he bounded from the hut but he didn’t care. He had a purpose and he capered down the curving stone path to the cove with one blanket clutched round him and the other slung around his shoulders. 

Her agonised cry reverberated in his head as he scrambled to the wooden jetty, “Ben, please.” He slipped a few times, muttering, his hair straggling over his face. One lone tiny boat was creaking and rocking in its moorings and he straddled awkwardly to clamber into it. Three of his carers were hopping down the path, hooting and crying and waving their arms.

He ignored them. He had to get away. His girl had cried out for him, for her Ben. He managed to climb into the undulating boat and he crouched to untie the rope. He was blind with need, desperate to get to her. He knew he had felt this way before; the drive to reach her was so strong it overrode thoughts of his own safety. She needed him again and with a rough shove against the jetty he cast himself adrift on the waves.

Deep in the clammy forest Rey let her emotions come upon her with no quarter. She bent and heaved with great gulping sobs. Blood roared in her ears as she remembered her Grandfather on Exegol with his decaying body and diabolical offer. The anger she had been pushing down reared up as she recalled giving every last atom of pure goodness in her to destroy him. Rage roared out as she saw her true love vanish in her arms. 

The pain of losing Ben howled like a wind from her chest, a dark storm of fury and loss which assailed her and threatened to tear her to pieces. She dropped to her knees with the effort but yet she couldn’t stop. “Ben, Ben,” she cried, “Ben, my love, my love.”  
The hot sobs kept coming, wave upon crashing wave. She howled and panted while around her the air snapped and trees splintered and smashed to the ground in bursts of leaves and dust. After some time Rey fell limply onto her side, sniffing and hiccupping. “Ben,” she murmured, her wet cheek pressed against the dirt, the air stiff with ozone. “Ben, please.”

She heard voices, the snapping and crack of branches. The familiar high jaunty whistle of BB-8 grew louder. She tried to lift her head but the world tilted like she had flipped a roll in the Falcon. She closed her eyes and her limbs turned floppy. She found the tilting and rocking sensation oddly comforting.

“Poe! She’s here!” Finn yelled. “No! I think she’s dead! Rey!”  
She made no sound. The undulating blackness lapped at the fragments of her which remained and finally she was tugged under.


	8. Adrift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben tries to escape the island by boat but finds it is more difficult than he thought it would be. After her violent outburst in the forest Rey faces both Poe and Finn and makes a startling confession to one of them.

Chapter 8 – Adrift

The anxious cries of his carers were lost under the insistent sloshing of the waves around him. As the small boat surged up and turned sideways, he managed to arm himself with the large smooth paddle.  
He plunged it over the edge of the boat and pulled, twisting the boat around. He grunted with the effort, tossing the blankets off him so he could row forward and away. Away to her. 

She was being borne away. Someone was carrying her, puffing and walking stiffly so that she was jolted. Her body was floppy, depleted of all its energy. Her legs dangled loosely, her head lolled against the person who held her. 

There had been another forest, another carry. It seemed like another life to Rey now. Kylo Ren had swept her up into his arms and carried her carefully to his ship. She had been in a drowsy fog of semi consciousness, unable to move or speak. She had dismissed it as a peculiar dream, spawned from her disgraceful desire for dark warrior Ren. 

But Finn had told her what had happened on Takodana.  
“I was so frightened for you, Rey,” he had confessed. She had nodded but hadn’t told him that rather than being scared in Kylo’s arms, she had felt secure. Held tight to him, feeling and hearing his breathing as he climbed the ramp to his shuttle, a calmness had settled inside her. She had dismissed it as part of the soporific spell he had cast on her, but now she knew differently. 

It was their bond. At last the two parts of the Dyad were together. 

Even when she’d returned to full consciousness bound into a barbaric interrogation chair she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He’d rifled through her mind, clumsy with impatience, and she was affronted by the intrusion. Her pain and loneliness were exposed by him as if he’d found her sleeping in her AT-AT bunk and ripped the covers off her. And then stripped away her clothes for extra spite. 

Though raging she’d also been intrigued. She’d felt an energy pass between them, recognising it as the same energy which was flickering to life within her. It was inside him too, powerful, seductive, turbulent. She was beguiled by the sad-eyed young man hidden beneath the monstrous metal mask. By the end of the interrogation it was she who had frightened him. 

He panted and grimaced. His arms grew tired from using all his strength to pull the boat away from the island. The horizon flashed at him, an impossible distance away. All he knew was that she was out there, past that horizon, and he had to reach her. But despite his grim efforts he found that he was moving towards the land instead of away from it. On the cliffs above his carers were moving alongside him in a frantic hooting mob. 

He heaved harder on the paddle, the small boat lurching and waves breaking over the side. One of his blankets had slipped to the floor and was doused in water. He flicked his hair back and wiped the sweat from his face.  
Then he realised that he couldn’t sense her anymore. The anguished buzzing and her voice were replaced by silence. Like the boat unleashed from its mooring his heart could no longer feel her tug. He stopped, slumped over, the boat rising and falling on the chill glassy swell of the sea. Feeling cold in his thin robes, he wrapped the dry blanket around himself and shivered. 

He was frightened that something had happened to her. Just as it had when he was in the pit. He gasped and stared around in panic. The pit. He remembered that moment of horror when he was climbing out to reach her. He’d been hurt so badly that he tingled with nausea and dizziness, his ribs ached and his entire left leg was a riot of agonising stabs. While he was he awkwardly hauling himself up the rocky wall he had felt her die. 

In the little boat he covered his face with his hands and sobbed. Too late. She had gone. The girl he loved, who loved him, was dead. He knew it. Her cries and his reaction had only been part of an appallingly vivid flashback. 

Adrift, he wept loudly and messily. Snot hung from his nose and he brayed and snivelled and didn’t care. He barely registered the urgent shrieks of his carers high on the cliff. He wanted to just remain there on the bitter rolling sea, untethered, alone. The wind rushed at him and he fell sideways, exhausted and hopeless. 

She woke in her familiar bunk, swathed in blankets. Her head pounded, her eyes were sticky and her mouth was as dry as the inside of a wrecked Star Destroyer on Jakku at noon. With a grunt she pulled herself up on her elbows. Her body ached as if she’d been one of the trees which had cracked and fallen.

“You saved us a job of felling trees for wood,” Poe remarked as he stood by the door. “Got enough now to build a whole spaceport. Maybe even an Ewok village too.”  
BB8 rolled from his side and chirped merrily at her. “Thank you for that assessment,” she croaked, “that I look like all my antennae need mending.”  
“He’s right,” agreed Poe. He stepped inside to fuss around the small crate which she used as a night stand. She took the canteen of water he held out to her. 

“You need mending, Rey,” he told her as she gulped, his eyes on hers. “For someone so gifted at maintenance you’re not so great at applying that to yourself.”  
“That’s easy for you to say,” she replied, passing him the empty canteen. She stifled a burp. “I just want to get on and do what I can,” she added as she eased herself back onto her pillow. Lying down felt good.  
“I know,” Poe agreed and beside him BB-8 beeped the same sentiment. “We all do, Rey.”  
“But we’re not all subjected to that nonsense from those First Order turned Galactic Alliance men, are we?”  
Poe shook his head gravely.  
“And we’re not all related to Palpatine,” she added, her voice faltering on the last word.

Poe regarded her silently. She believed that he had quelled his impetuousness after the battle above D’Qar and that he was deeply affected by his actions. But his brashness and lack of tact used to irritate her. On Pasaana his first reaction to the injured vexis was to blast it. But since the end of the war something had shifted in him. He seemed more measured. He had given her the companionship of BB-8 and kept any judgements to himself, though she sensed him watching out for her. 

“Rey,” he began, one hand smoothing back his dark wavy hair, “you are so brave, but you mustn’t struggle alone.”  
Rey sighed. “I have to. I mean, I am Rey Palpatine. How did they know? I tried to keep a calm face in the questioning but ...”  
“Leia recorded a holonote for D’Acy. It said to protect you and that you will do the right thing.”  
“Protect me?” she burst out, sitting up. “By telling Targen and his stooge?”  
Poe shrugged. “D’Acy is torn. She wants to help you but she also feels obligated to forge a way forward with the Galactic Alliance.”

Rey was still hurt, though she knew Poe was right. She had seen D’Acy’s flashes of irritation during the interview. She sank back, pulling up the blanket. Poe tucked it in around her shoulders then grinned awkwardly. He dragged the worn seat by the door next to her bunk and sat.  
“D’Acy is sorry,” he informed her, leaning forward, elbows on knees. “She thought it might make Targen and Beyanga understand your situation.”  
“They understand nothing. And I don’t trust Targen,” Rey admitted. “He’s hiding something, Poe.”  
“I’ll keep my ears open,” he said. “At the moment he and Beyanga are pretty banged up from the collapse of the ops shelter.”

Rey nodded. She reached behind her head to free her hair from its fastenings.  
“They’re certainly angry at you,” Poe explained. “They think that with those destructive powers you were in certainly in league with Kylo Ren, or that it was him influencing you.”  
“Poe, you do believe me when I say he’s dead?” she asked him firmly. She combed out her hair with her fingers. It fell round her ears and neck and the soft warmth of it comforted her.  
“Yes,” he said then quickly added, “But there is something else, isn’t there?”

She let her hair swing over one eye and looked away.  
“It’s okay,” Poe reassured her. “You don’t have to tell me. Just rest for a few days. And eat! BB-8 tells me you’re not eating enough.”  
Rey glowered at the droid and he beeped defiantly.  
“Don’t worry,” Poe said, “Targen and Beyanga are too bruised and embarrassed to show their faces for a while. They’re in the infirmary.”  
“You’ll keep them away from me for a while?” Rey settled back in bed and Poe reached and arranged the covers again. She never knew he possessed a nurturing side which extended beyond his beloved droid. 

“Yes. But I can’t promise the same about Finn. He’s desperate to see you.”  
“He carried me back here, didn’t he?”  
“He did, and I helped too. You looked ... dead,” he murmured uneasily.  
Rey pressed her lips together and nodded. She had never felt such pain, not even when Palpatine was dragging her life force from her. Now she felt as hollow as those fallen ships in the Jakku desert, and wearier than if she had been scavenging for a week with no rest. 

“Poe, you won’t tell anyone else about who I am? Not even Finn?”  
“No.”  
“I need to tell him myself.”  
Poe nodded and stood up to leave. BB-8 whistled at him and rolled to the end of Rey’s bunk. The adorable but pesky droid D-0 was kept busy with carrying messages, allowing the astromech to devote his attention to Rey.  
“Just rest for a few hours, Rey,” Poe instructed from the door. “Then I’ll bring you some food.”  
“I will, thank you,” she answered, turning to curl on her side. “But you can ask Finn to bring it in if he wants.” 

He woke quaking with the cold. He was terror-stricken, not knowing where he was and why everything was moving. He felt the icy sprinkle of water and believed he was back in the cave. He cried out and covered his head with his hands before realising that he was in the small boat and the wind was dashing sea spray at him. His head reeled and he felt sick. A moment later he was retching into the bottom of the boat, his breakfast spattering the wood, the wet blanket and his stockinged feet. He grimaced with disgust at the white lumpy mess and vomited again, but this time managed to aim most of it over the side. 

He panted and sat with his head low so that the dizziness subsided. He then realised that he was moving, the boat bobbing steadily towards land under an invisible power. The paddle lay to one side, shiny with water. There was a small shingle beach ahead and it was growing closer. His carers stood on the shore crying out. He waved to them. “I’m okay!” he yelled but the wind ripped his words away.

He looked around then peeked over the back of the boat, astonished to see a raft of brown and white bodies riding the swell of the sea. The chubby birds were bunched together and incredibly they seemed to be pushing the boat. He calculated that there must have been at least fifty of them. Drops of water beaded off their plump backs and they gave the odd squelchy sounding squawk. He could discern the webbed feet of the ones on the edges pedalling industriously under the glossy surface of the waves.  
He wiped his face with his sleeve and pulled the blanket around him and waited for the boat to land.

Rey woke up feeling sick. She had dreamed of being on a boat, of the cold briny tang of the air, of the nauseous rolling of the ocean. She shivered, feeling clammy. She tried to control her roiling stomach but it was too late. Her mouth was watering and her throat clenched. She scrabbled out of bed with her hand clamped to her mouth but only made it halfway to the door before a hot gush of vomit splashed to the floor. 

“Rey!” Finn cried out. He came in bearing a bowl and a mug. He was only inches away from being decorated with Rey’s puke.  
“I’m okay,” she gasped, as BB-8 spun around her feet in alarm. “Have you any water?”  
Finn helped her to her bunk. She wiped her hands and her face on one of her blankets and dropped it to the floor. Finn set the bowl on the crate and held out the tin mug. “It’s tea, but it’s not very hot. Try it.”  
Rey held the mug in both hands and sipped. “Nice,” she whispered. “Thank you.” She turned to BB-8. “I’m okay, go and stay by the door. Keep a look out. Please?” The droid leaned back and regarded her, gave a long reluctant sounding whistle and then rolled slowly away.

“Rey,” Finn said when BB-8 was stationed by the door and she had settled back on her bunk. His voice trembled. “Rey, what’s happening to you?”  
Rey stared at him. She hoped he was not about to cry. She breathed deeply and took another mouthful of tea. “I don’t know,” she said. “I just had this dream, but the feeling was so powerful. I was on an ocean. I’m sure it was on Ahch-To. It was freezing cold and the boat was bobbing up and down and the motion made me sick.”  
“But Rey, I’ve never seen you get sick. All those manoeuvres you pulled in the Falcon. I felt a bit queasy sometimes but you were always rock solid.” 

Rey smiled ruefully. “Rock solid. I don’t feel that way now.”  
“Why? What happened to the ops shelter? And out in the forest? The area was wrecked! You were lying in the middle of it all looking pale and still. Things were on fire, Rey.”  
“Finn, there’s a lot I can’t explain.”  
“I bet you would explain it to him, to Kylo. Or should I say, Ben.”

Hearing him speak the name was like a slap across her face. 

“Finn,” she started.  
“No. Rey, I am so scared. I look at you and I don’t know you anymore. You won’t speak to me. You moved here alone. Come back to the communal area. Be with your friends.”  
“I need time, Finn. I went through something terrible.”  
“Yeah, we all did, Rey.”

She hated his petulance. She felt angry again and eyed the bowl of soup steaming on the crate. She felt like flinging it in his face.  
Finn looked at her hard and she knew that he was seething. He opened his mouth, closed it, clenched his fists. She glared back at him, daring him.  
Finally he spoke, his voice low and disdainful. “You and him, Kylo Ren. I saw you with him on that Death Star wreckage. You wanted to be with him. The way you looked at him. It was frightening. Then you pushed me away.”  
“Finn, I was fighting him!” she rushed to answer, not wishing to dwell on his perceptiveness.

“Sure. You killed him. You should be happy. But it’s destroyed the Rey I knew.”  
Rey from Nowhere, that scrappy scavenger, was gone. She was Rey Palpatine, keeper of a terrible legacy. She was also half of the Dyad. She stared at him.  
“I did kill him. It was my destiny as a Jedi. And as you say, we all went through something terrible. It changes everyone.”

“Yet you call him Ben,” he continued, “Even in your sleep, you call out for Ben. Why? Kylo Ren was a murderous tyrant, not some guy called Ben.”  
She was tired of this. She gave a short bitter laugh. “You were right, Finn. I did want to be with him. Not Kylo, but Ben.”  
“What? Why? I still don’t understand.”  
“Because I loved him.”


	9. Waste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn reacts to Rey's confession and he finds out who Ben really is. Ben is inconsolable when he returns to shore, convinced that the girl he loves is dead.

Chapter 9 – Waste

“You what?” Finn gaped at her.  
“You heard,” Rey’s voice was harsh.  
“But you killed him!” Finn shouted angrily.  
“I know I did.” She could have told him the truth now she was cruising into confessional territory. But she didn’t want what happened on Exegol ever to come out. It had been too pure and beautiful and agonising to share with anyone.  
Anyway, it was true that she had killed him. In travelling to Exegol to be by her side Ben had rushed headlong to his death. He had given his life for her. It should have been him living, not her. 

“Finn, if you really want to help me, you must listen,” she pleaded. “I know he was our enemy, I know the damage he did. But before he was Kylo Ren do you know who he was?”  
Finn looked disdainful and held up his hands. “I don’t care who he was.”  
“He was Ben Solo,” Rey said carefully, seeing Finn’s bewilderment. “Han and Leia’s son. Their only child. Luke Skywalker’s nephew.”

Finn was stunned into silence. He looked around, his eyes wide, his mouth gaping. Beside him BB-8 emitted an affirmative beep. Finn looked at him and then Rey. “No. No.” He shook his head and stepped back.  
“Finn, it’s true, but only a few people know,” Rey told him in a low voice.  
“Leia? She knows that her son, that he .... then how can she ...” he could barely speak.  
“There was still light in him and she always had hope he would return to her. I had hope he could be turned from the dark side,” Rey explained softly, hoping that he would begin to understand. “He was so torn apart. He was fighting the pull to the light.”

Finn huffed in disbelief, shook his head.  
“I killed him,” Rey said. “I killed Kylo. And Ben Solo never had a chance to live.”  
She was shaking as desolation swept over her. Ben Solo, thirty years old, embracing the light after years of pushing it away, holding his soulmate at long last. His chance at a new life was within his reach. But he had thrown it away for her. The anger prickled inside her again. It wasn’t fair. She was bitter on his behalf but mostly for herself. She never had a chance to know Ben Solo. To give him all her love. That love was throbbing within her and it had nowhere to go. Her eyes filled with tears. 

Finn looked appalled, and backed away as if she was carrying a fatal disease.  
“Rey, this is too messed up!” he exclaimed. “How can you love someone like that? He kidnapped you! He was a beast in that forest! He killed his own father!” He looked at her, his mouth twisted in disgust. “And you loved him!”  
“Yes,” she breathed.  
“It’s outrageous! Everything we did! It was all a lie!” His agitation made BB-8 spin and trill. The droid rolled around his feet as if to try and calm him down.

“Finn,” Rey implored, “please!”  
“Don’t!” he shrieked, waving her away, stepping back from BB-8. He looked around. “Do other people know this? About how you feel?”  
“No! And Finn, they mustn’t!”  
“Huh!”  
“You want to know what happened to the ops shelter? Well, those First Order Alliance guys were on to it. They accused me of being in league with him, that he’s still alive and -“  
“You were in league with him! You were a traitor, Rey! Did you have secret meetings? It all started when he took you from Takodana! I saw him carrying you like, like ...” he gasped out the words, “...like you were his bride!”

“Finn, please! Not so loud!” Rey tried to peer out of the doorway. BB-8 was still beeping and rocking to and fro between them.  
“Is that why he let you beat him on Starkiller Base? You told me you almost killed him, didn’t you? It was a set up!” Finn demanded, his face shiny with sweat.  
“No!”  
“Is he still alive?”  
“No! Finn, listen, if he was alive would I be here being like this?” She wiped her eyes, her face. She was an ugly mess and she didn’t care.

Revulsion crawled over his face. “Rey, no. I can’t. War changes people but this ... this is ... this ... I can’t ...”  
“Finn, calm down, please listen!” she pleaded. BB-8 gave a long high chirp of distress and rolled out of the doorway.  
“No! This is beyond listening!” Finn cried out. He wiped his face, sniffed and turned to her. Then in a low shaky voice he asked, “Did he love you, too?”  
“Yes,” said Rey.

Finn winced and stifled a sob. He clamped his hand to his mouth. His distress was terrible to her and Rey reached out to touch his arm.  
He glared at her and pushed her away.  
“If he wasn’t dead I’d kill him! I would, Rey! Because it’s destroying you! All that man does is destroy things! It doesn’t matter what his name is!”  
“Finn, no ...”  
“No, Rey. I can’t bear to watch him destroy you. I can’t be with you anymore. I’m done!”  
He turned from her, but not before she saw the tears streaming down his cheeks. He turned away and stumbled out of her hut, leaving her trembling and staring after him. 

For the second time in as many days he was led shivering and exhausted over the grass by the small grey creatures. His feet were numb with cold, soaked in his socks. His shoulders ached from battling with the paddle and his palms stung with blisters.

Some of the small birds followed, and he recognised the plucky trio who had spent the night on his bed. They were the most vocal, hopping and flapping and almost becoming a trip hazard.  
Act first, think later, he thought to himself as he trudged over the grassy slopes to the village by the cove. He frowned at the easy familiarity of that phrase. A man’s wry voice, a cock of the head. He almost seized the memory before the wind tore round his head and all he could see were the grey clouds billowing ahead.

He reached the step of the laundry hut and he started to sob. Not long ago he felt so elated. Now he was shattered. Even though she had cried out for him he knew that she was his love. But now he couldn’t feel her anymore and he was frightened he would never feel her again.  
“Gone,” he moaned. “Gone.”  
The creatures guided him inside and he fell on his little fireside bed. He drew his knees up to his chest and rocked and wept. The carers cooed and patted him but he barely felt their attempts at consolation. He felt broken apart. He wanted to wipe out the memory of the love he had for the girl. He wished he hadn’t felt its strength and veracity. He couldn’t bear that she was dead and that his love was wasted. 

“Dead, dead,” he muttered over and over. The carers piled blankets on him, stroked his hair back from his face while whistling softly. He recalled how distressed they were when he had sailed away, how there was no admonishment when he had returned to shore and he burned with shame.  
“I’m sorry,” he cried, and he reached out and clasped one of the chubby cool hands which smoothed down his covers. “I’m so sorry.” 

The fire was banked up and he began to feel its warmth in his body. He dabbed his face with the soothing damp cloths brought to him. After a while he sat up, breathing deeply. His chest ached and his throat hurt. His carers handed him a bowl of sweet smelling hot water and he drank it gratefully. Another replaced the empty one and he cupped his hands around it and drank that too. He lay down, full and heavy and drowsy. His three bird friends hopped up to settle on the end of his bed. They warmed his feet and their soft chirrups lulled him to sleep along with the spit and sizzle of the fire.


	10. Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey regrets and ponders over Finn's reaction and Rose tries to find out what happened. Still lost in her grief about Ben Rey tries to meditate but has a startling and erotic vision. D'Acy has a proposal.  
> After trying to take a boat out to sea, Ben falls ill with a fever and is nursed by the Caretakers. His memory of touching Rey's hand makes his convalescent bathtime a pleasurable one.

Chapter 10 – Desire

Rey staggered to the door, tempted to chase after Finn to make amends. Mostly she was terrified that in his distress he was telling everyone who crossed his path. But the few people she could see were going about their business normally. She didn’t know where BB-8 had gone either. He may have been busily beeping out the news that Rey had been in love with Supreme Leader Ren. Right at that moment he could be projecting a holo of her lively exchange with Finn to a incredulous audience.

She stepped out, listening. She was torn between investigating the base and remaining in her quarters. Aching and tired, she decided that she didn’t want to face anyone despite being scared that her secret was being spread around the base.

She lay back on her bed and arranged the blankets over her. She thought about her stone hut on Ahch-To, her little fire keeping the chill at bay, the lullaby of its comforting crackle. She chided herself for not staying there after burning Kylo’s TIE. Damn that Luke Skywalker with his scraggy Force Ghost hair and Jedi pep talk. He should have done all that when she had gone to see him earlier but she guessed that death changed a few things. She could have remained on the island, even persuaded Ben to join her there instead of going to Exegol to die. They could have lived there simply and contentedly, even tolerated random pesky manifestations of Master Skywalker. They may have even made an agreeable alliance with the grey Lanai, helping to tend the island. If it was good enough for the legendary Master Skywalker it would have been fine for her and Ben.

Just as her tears began gathering again a vision pooled in her mind. Ben was curled under blankets bed as she was, and he was stroking one of those ridiculously cute porgs. She stiffened at its lucidity. For a moment she could feel the pudgy warmth of the bird under her hand, smell its oily feathers. His sleeve was dark but coarse and loose. It wasn’t a tight black accordion one, nor did it belong to his black undershirt. Jedi robes, she realised before that sensation of being elsewhere swooped her into giddiness. She clutched the blanket to steady herself, scrunching shut her eyes.  
She was overwrought. The last few days of bone deep grief were causing strange shifts in her perceptions.

She heard the waves again, as if they were calling her. She tugged Ben’s shirt from under her lumpy mattress and hauled it over her head. It still smelled of ozone and dust and him. He had a peculiar spicy smell blended with the muskiness of body odour. But it was being replaced by her fragrance now. She wondered if the memory of his beautiful face would fade too, replaced by her own sorrowful one reflected back.

Rapid beeps sliced into her shifting dreams and she woke to see BB-8’s one shiny eye peering at her. He chirped with glee when she mumbled, “Oh, at least you came back.”  
He wasn’t alone. Rose Tico was beside him, her black hair tousled and oil smudges decorating her smooth face.  
“Rey, what happened? BB-8 found me and told me to come here.”

Rey struggled to sit up. She shoved off the blankets, realising she was wearing Ben’s baggy black shirt. She scrabbled to cover herself but it was too late.  
“You look awful,” Rose commented. “And what’s that you’re wearing? It’s all ... dusty and torn.”  
“Oh, I found it,” Rey remarked in a high airy voice. “It keeps me warm.”  
“I don’t know how.” Rose shrugged. “But if you give it to me I’ll wash it for you.”

Rey shook her head then pulled her hair back from her face. “Rose, never mind my laundry, where’s Finn?”  
“He’s preparing to leave,” Rose said shortly. She sighed unhappily. “He’s going with Jannah and a few others to start rounding up Stormtroopers. He wasn’t meant to go for a few days yet.”  
Rey looked away. “No, he wasn’t. He was looking forward to learning more about piloting.”

“So what happened, Rey? One moment he was demanding the best portions of food to take to you,” Rose explained. “Then he returned came to collect his gear and he was in tears. I’ve never seen him so upset and angry.”  
“We had a fight.”  
“But what about?”  
“He didn’t say anything?” Rey asked, her heart beating hard.  
“No. But his face was terrible.”  
“I know,” Rey agreed. She paused and wiped her eyes. “Rose, I can’t tell you. Not now.”

“You could still catch him before he departs.” Rose smiled hopefully and BB-8 gave a jaunty bleep of agreement.  
Rey shook her head sadly. She had no idea how to relate to her friend now. Since returning from Exegol she had pushed Finn away. There had been the relieved embraces with him and plenty of others but as soon as it was polite to do so she’d slipped away from the celebration party. He’d sought her out, hurt that she had removed herself and her few possessions from the communal shelter that night.

When she had given him the answers he sought, when she had confided in him as a friend, he had been appalled and angry. She had wanted him to understand but it had been too much for him. She didn’t blame him but she wished it had been otherwise.  
Rose put her hand on Rey’s. “I can’t imagine what you went through. What you did. People think you’re so brave. But it costs doesn’t it?”  
Rey nodded. She didn’t want to speak as she knew she would cry again. And she was tired of tears.  
Rose brought water for Rey and a clean cloth to wipe her face. She chatted about the happenings at the base, disclosed that the presence of ex First Order officials was making some uneasy. Rose described the repair of the comms hut which dragged Chewie from his Falcon maintenance. The Falcon. Rey missed it and its foibles. She would visit the Wookie, perhaps fool around with some upgrades to the clanky Corellian fighter which she’d wanted to do for a while.  
Rose left, promising to return later with a warmer sweater.

“Where’s Poe?” Rey asked BB-8 who was rocking slightly by her bedside. She hauled Ben’s shirt off and slid it away beneath her pillow.  
BB-8 beeped that he couldn’t find Poe and Rey thought it likely that he was trapped in back to back meetings.  
“BB-8?” Rey inquired. “You know the truth?”  
An inquisitive beep.  
“You know, about me and Kylo?”  
BB-8 made a forlorn noise before rattling off a series of sounds which she translated as his desire to electroprod Kylo Ren. Dead or alive.

“Yes, you’re entitled to feel that way. But you mustn’t tell anyone. Not even Poe. Those men, they’re dangerous. I feel it. If their suspicions are confirmed then I could be in danger.”  
Another volley of calls which told her he would electroprod those men too.  
“BB-8,” Rey admonished him, “you can’t solve problems by hurting people. Besides, those guys will deactivate you and use you for a bowling ball if you get in their way.”  
The droid trilled that he didn’t care, that he would protect her. Rey watched him as he rolled to the doorway to take up his sentry position. She knew from experience never to underestimate a droid.

Rey brushed her hair and cleaned her teeth with the rest of the water which Rose had fetched before departing. She fancied wandering to the maintenance area, perhaps to see what new tools had been gathered since she was last there. She could take them to Chewie and they could work on the Falcon’s ailing fuel lines. But she still felt achy and raw so she made herself cosy in the narrow bunk. She pulled out Ben’s shirt to use as a pillow cover. She remembered his tousled hair, his lively eyes and the ease with which he moved. She nuzzled her face into the black fabric, comforted by the thought that her skin was touching where his had.

She debated whether she should have told Finn everything about Ben on Exegol. That the man he loathed had rescued her. That she was only here now because of that man. But his disgust over her and Ben’s love for each other had been too potent.  
She wondered if Finn was right, that she was a traitor. People would ignore her pale clothes and Jedi ways if they knew the truth. All they would see was her filthy Palpatine lineage and the despicable Kylo Ren she had chosen as a lover.

He slept. His dreams were as tangled and feverish as his body in his makeshift bed. Shadows, yells of terror, distorted silhouettes of men. Fighting, kicking, thrashing. He clutched a fiery red weapon, its lethal hum resonating through his entire body. He was burning with it, sweating with exertion. He cried out, not knowing where he was. He was too hot, very thirsty. Low voices whispered about darkness and power and he cringed from them. His head clanged with pain.

Gradually he became aware of a calming coolness on his head. When he came round he recognised his grey-faced carers. They were dabbing away his fever, cooing at him. He was soaked with sweat, shaking and clammy. He stripped off his damp clothes, receiving clean cream-coloured ones with the same fit as the first set. Jedi robes. He tried to snag a memory, one where he was wearing similar light coloured garments, but his mind was too dull to explore it further. Yet he was thankful to have found a connection between the present and the past.

Jedi. He savoured the word just as he did the cool water which he sloshed around his sticky mouth. He wasn’t sure if he’d been a Jedi but he knew it had been a powerful part of his life. This place was part of it. And he would find out why. As soon as he got stronger he would search the island for answers.

After slurping another cup of water he lay down again, needing sleep, knowing that would heal him. Yet he was afraid to succumb to the red hectic dreams or memories. He suspected that they were the latter which frightened him. He drifted off anyway, the dry warmth of his new clothes wonderfully comforting.  
He saw the girl in fragments. Brown hair tied up in buns, fierce eyes. She was soaked, fighting him. Her anger and fear crashed upon him like the waves which surrounded them. He felt heavy and tired and anguished. His mother’s voice drifted to him from faraway. “Ben.” Then he recalled pain and he woke in shock, clutching his stomach.

He didn’t know how long he was ill. Maybe it lasted a couple of days and nights. He sipped water and herbal tea and spoons of salty broth before collapsing back into his blankets. Sometimes he blacked out with no dreams then woke feeling refreshed. The birds were always there. They took turns to waddle outside but there was always at least one resting heavily on his bed, trilling quietly.  
He still ached for the girl, crying until his eyes grew gummy and sore. He tried to recall more about the battle in the waves but could only see her cross cold face. He mourned her despite being unable to remember much of her, his nameless love.

He woke in the faint light of dawn with a gnawing pain in his stomach. He was ravenous and he was still dry and warm. He picked the gunk from his eyes and stretched and yawned. All three of his bird friends shook themselves and flapped their stubby wings.  
He soon devoured three bowls of the sticky creamy broth and two crunchy rolls of bread and reclined in his bed enjoying the feeling of a full belly.

A short while later he didn’t hesitate to fold himself into the tiny wooden tub. He relished his bath, particularly his carers dousing him with water. He applied the lumpy soap to himself with alacrity.  
He rubbed it in his hair, watching the firelight flickering on the ceiling of the hut and suddenly he knew. He knew he’d been in a hut with his girl. A similar hut with a small fire. She had been damp and her face was sad, glistening with tears.  
He had felt connected to her. He had felt complete.  
At peace.

Their fingers had touched and the skin to skin contact was somehow momentous to him. He remembered the relief, the solidity of her. And he saw the way she looked at him, her dark eyes large with longing and hope. Her shoulders were bare and she felt so vibrant and warm. Her lips were parted and he felt an overwhelming flush of lust and love. He was ready then. Ready to lean forward and kiss her.

In his bath he tingled with the same desire. His carers tilted their heads at him. He resumed rubbing soap into his hair while feeling a stirring between his legs. He was becoming hard and it was thrilling. He couldn’t stop it if his life depended on it. His erection broke the surface of the water, poking up like a third limb. One of his carers came closer to rinse him and he clamped his hand over its pink smooth head. He shook his head, embarrassed, feeling the heat suffuse his face. But the sensation of his hand on himself made him even harder.

“I’ll ... I’ll do it,” he stuttered, using one hand to take the rinsing bowl. He waved her away and she looked puzzled. He tried to communicate that he needed privacy with grimaces and gestures at himself.  
“Please,” he asked, “let me finish off. You have a rest.”

She cooed quizzically at him, but then slowly she turned and padded outside.  
He crouched over, cupping himself, feeling his penis bob in the warm water. He remembered the arousal and the ecstasy and he realised these feelings had been alien to him. Alien but so desired. He remembered her sweetness, her brilliance.

He gripped himself and gasped before moving his hand up and down. How he had wanted the girl. How he had yearned for her. He still did, he still felt those thick pulses of desire for her. He was ashamed as she was dead but he couldn’t fight it. His hand moved quicker, water sloshing and his breath growing louder. He was alone in the hut, but glanced round. He was close anyway. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back. Remembering her damp hair clinging to her bare shoulders, he gave one tight tug and came in three sweet convulsions.

As his breathing eased and he relaxed into the water he heard the sound of the waves. But not just outside. He heard it in the memory. He gazed round. The stones of the hut. They were the same colour, the same flat shapes. It was here. He had been in a hut with her on the island.

Rey spent several days mostly confined to her shelter. Finn had left with no return date and she wondered bitterly when she would see him next. But he hadn’t told anyone about her and Ben.  
Though deeply hurt that Ben’s sacrifice was only known to her, Finn’s reaction warned her not mention Ben to anyone ever again. She knew that people were talking about Kylo Ren and she tried to keep her anger at Targen and Beyanga to just below simmering.

She returned to the forest, sitting cross legged amongst the fronds to meditate. She breathed deeply and cleared her mind and tried to connect. It was impossible. Each time she sensed something she saw the island. She heard the sea heaving and rolling. She heard the raucous long cries of the porgs echoing off the cliffs.  
She shook her head and huffed. It was no use. She was broken and tired. She was about to scramble to her feet when she heard it. A voice was whispering close by.

She jerked around but no one was there.  
“Reach out, Rey, reach out,” the words sang around her. “Feel him, Rey, feel him.”  
The air hummed around her. She gasped and saw Ben, solid and clear, in her mind. He was crouched in darkness. Then she saw he was in a tub. Her hulking Ben was in the tiniest bath she had ever seen. A harsh laugh burst from her. This confirmed that she was going insane. She sat back on the damp ground and shook her head.

“I’m okay,” she reassured herself out loud. “It’s just, oh,” she drew a sharp breath as she felt a burst of pleasure. Her insides tightened and she slid her hand between her legs. She couldn’t believe it. She was aroused.

She felt warmth, water lapping sensually around her and then she saw him again. Ben naked and glossy with water, his head tilted back, his long nose in profile, his wavy damp hair straggling back from his brow. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth was working and she knew what he was doing. It was shocking and powerful.

And utterly beautiful.

She couldn't resist. She snapped open her belt and shoved her hand down her trousers. She lay back and rubbed quickly, feeling herself clenching. Her climax was hard and sharp, unlike any she had ever experienced. She flopped back and breathed deeply, attempting to calm down. Her heart yammered and her cheeks were burning and all she could see was Ben. Naked glorious Ben.

She walked slowly back to base, still dazed and convinced that the breaking of her connection with Ben was sending her into madness. She knew enough of mechanics to recognise that an imbalance put strain on other parts. She needed to consult the Jedi texts and smiled when she imagined Beaumont Kin’s face if she told him what had just happened. Those texts stated that Jedi were to forgo sexual relationships but they were ignorant of that aspect of the Dyad. And that part had been extremely potent in her connection with Ben. Now she understood that even death couldn’t obliterate it. And that it was important to discover what was happening to her, even if that meant talking about Ben.

D’Acy was in her hut when she returned, talking to BB-8 about how best to run diagnostics on a couple of probe droids.  
Rey’s chest tightened with anxiety.  
“Rey, you look ... tired,” D’Acy greeted awkwardly.  
“I am,” Rey agreed, sitting on her bunk and inviting the commander to pull up the chair beside her.  
“I know that interview was hard and I’m sorry,” D’Acy began. “I would have done it differently, but a lot of people want Kylo Ren to face justice.”

Rey was silent, pressing her lips together.  
D’Acy shifted on the chair, looking uncomfortable. “But not finding Kylo’s body is disconcerting for some.”  
“What about what’s disconcerting for me?” Rey asked more sharply than she had intended.  
“I know,” D’Acy acknowledged quietly. “But some people require closure.”  
Rey laughed. “Justice and closure,” she muttered, shaking her head.  
D’Acy looked puzzled and Rey was tempted to burst out that there was no justice for Ben Solo, no closure for her.

She opened her mouth, the words ready to tumble out and then she paused.  
“Rey? What is it?” D’Acy asked.  
“There will never be justice and closure. That’s a lie. We had a war and it was terrible and most of us lost people we loved. We have to live with the consequences. Or at least try to.”

D’Acy put her hand on Rey’s. “We do. And we can do it together. I believe that. But this is a new world we’re in now.”  
Rey sighed heavily. “You know what I need? I need to get away for a while. I’m no use like this.”  
D’Acy nodded and squeezed Rey’s hand. “There is something you could do which would help both you and the Alliance.”  
Rey felt a tingle of panic at the last word. By Alliance D’Acy surely meant Targen.  
“And what is that?” she asked shakily.  
“Targen and Beyanga want to travel to Ahch-To. You can take them there and be their guide.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is still angst but great to add some erotic bits in too. I always love your comments so please keep them coming!


	11. Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey makes a decision about going to Ahch-To.  
> Ben manages to communicate with his island carers and finds out more about the girl and the island. He has a memory which is like a punch in the face.

Chapter 11 - Girl

He rubbed the remaining pale sliminess from his hands and stirred the water. He was relieved to see the evidence of what he’d just done was hidden in the swirls of suds. He hoisted himself out of the tub with a hearty splosh and grasped hold of the drying cloth.  
As he vigorously rubbed his arms and chest he laughed out loud and shouted, “Here! I was here! With her! With my girl!”

One of the carers lurched in clutching a bundle of sticks, her wide mouth open in alarm at his exclamations. He didn’t blame her. Last time he had yelled with excitement about the girl he had scurried off, stolen their only boat and almost met a cold lonely death out at sea.  
“Is that why you’re helping me?” he asked her, wrapping the cloth around his waist and using another to dry his legs. “Because you know me?”  
His carer tilted her head and squeaked.  
“I’ve been here before,” he explained, pointing at himself and gesturing around. “I have, haven’t I?”  
She squeaked again, looking bemused. Then she shuffled out, still clasping her sticks to her chest.

Alone again, he dressed quickly in the dark brown robes which were clean and softly folded on a stool. He scrubbed at his wet hair with a small thick cloth and used his fingers to comb out the tangles. He rubbed at his face. After a few days his prickly stubble was burgeoning into hair and making his upper lip, chin and cheeks itch. He peered around the shadowy hut for something to show his reflection but he could see nothing. He padded to the doorway in his thick socks and drew back the stiff canvas curtain. The stick-carrying carer was returning with the leader. He met them outside, the briny wind blowing his hair back from his eyes.

“I know I’ve been here before,” he told her, patting his chest, indicating the island, and then repeating the actions.  
The leader wagged one of her chubby fingers at him and gabbled. He stooped down, scrutinising her smooth grey face. She shook her head.  
“So I haven’t been here? How can that be? You must be mistaken.”  
Another head shake and an approximation of a frown. He returned her frown and straightened up, confused and a little irked. The air was fresh with the mist which eddied around the cove. He shivered and folded his arms.

The leader whistled and pulled at his robe. She made shapes with her hands.  
“The girl?” he asked. “The girl was here?” His heart pounded faster as he waited for their confirmation.  
A nod from both of the grey creatures.  
He grinned. “Hair like this?”  
He pulled his hair back from his face, piling it into a messy knot on the top of his head. From his memory his girl kept her hair up in at least one bun.  
The carers warbled and pointed at him in amusement.  
“No, not my hair. The girl? Hair like this?”  
They eyed him for a few seconds then nodded vigorously.  
“So she WAS here! My girl was here!” he declared joyfully. He covered his mouth his hands and huffed with relief into them.

“Did you look after her?” he jabbed his finger at them and then carved soothing gestures in the air with his hands.  
A pause and then a spatter of noises which he recognised as displeasure.  
Disappointment chilled him with the breeze. His mouth twisted as he worked out his next question.  
“Jedi? Was the girl a Jedi?”  
They narrowed their steely eyes and shook their heads. He wondered why they appeared to be so annoyed.  
“No?” he asked, his irritation rising again.  
He gulped in a couple of breaths and pursed his lips. Wrapping his robe firmly around himself he stepped back into the smoky warmth of the hut. He needed time alone to think, to sift through his memories in the gloom.

The leader tapped at his hip. She croaked at him, pointing up to the grassy slope.  
“She was up there?” he enquired.  
The leader nodded.  
“Then you must take me!” he demanded, bending and nodding back at her. “Yes? Take me to where she was?”  
He gestured from himself to up the hill but all he received was a stern shake of the head. They whistled and flicked their hands at him.  
“Alright, I’ll go inside,” he conceded. The leader mimed stirring and eating and garbled at him. Then she slipped her hands to her cheek and closed her eyes.  
He considered all this, one hand on his hip. “Eat and rest first?” he confirmed.  
They gazed up at him, the leader with her wide curved mouth slightly open. “Then go up the hill tomorrow?” he entreated, flailing his arms to try and signify the suns setting and then rising. “Tomorrow? Yes?”  
Another nod before he was chivvied into the dim cosy hut.

The three seabirds waddled in behind him, cawing and scratching at the floor. The biggest one, adorned with white speckles, had something silvery and slippery hanging from its mouth. It dropped it on the floor by his feet.  
A small fish, ragged with tooth marks. He smiled as he picked it up. “You want me to eat this, huh?” He waggled it at them. “I need to cook it first,” he informed them, then he froze, fish held up by its thin tail fin.  
A mental glimpse of a fire and a stick and a brace of similar glistening fishes. He scowled in concentration, seeing a group of people, clad in robes much like he was wearing. That memory again of murmurs mixed with the snap of the flames. People were gathered crosslegged around the fire watching him turn the fish on the stick. He recalled the sharp aroma wafting up with the heat of the flames. Someone was laughing and saying his name. “Ben,” a man’s voice announced, “those fish look and smell delicious. Who knew you had talents as a fisherman and as a chef?” They chuckled but he remembered that the laughter was as warm as the fire, that it felt good, that he felt good. He’d not felt like that for a long time.

He was tempted to recall more, to push his mind back though the folds of blackness. Yet he experienced that uneasy feeling again. For some reason he was fearful to press too much about those fireside companions. The seabirds squawked at him and clicked their way resolutely across the stone floor to the fire. He set about preparing the small fish as best he could. As it smouldered he wondered about the next day and how much he would discover about the girl. He was perplexed at the carers not acknowledging that he had been here before. The memory was clear. He couldn’t bear being unable to trust his own mind. He was craving answers but was still weary and fearful. He twirled the fish over the licking flames and sighed.

Answers were out there, but for now there was fire and food and a comfortable bed.

“Why Ahch-To?” Rey asked D’Acy.  
“Based on your testimony, that’s the place they think Kylo Ren is.”  
“Well, he’s not. I took his ship there. Alone.”  
D’Acy nodded slowly. “Then a journey to to the island will prove that he’s not there. They can either look elsewhere for him or just believe that he is dead.”  
“And me?”  
“You can either stay there for a while or travel somewhere else. Or return here.”

Rey contemplated this. She needed to be alone and the island was perfect; she had travelled there recently to exile herself. She could enjoy as much time as she required reconnecting with the Force.  
She had experienced all the Jedi on Exegol, channelling their power through her, turning the two Skywalker lightsabers into a searing weapon. Love and faith the like she had never felt before had overwhelmed her. But it had killed her and killed Ben.

She recalled Rose’s kind face, how she had recognised the cost of Rey’s experiences. She needed time. She needed to be kind to herself. She wondered if it was why she was being subjected to strong visions of the island. It was her sanctuary. Wet, wild and beautiful, it was calling her. It throbbed with Force energy and she yearned to experience the extraordinary oneness with that energy again. Because right now she felt cut off and alone, like the Rey who had scratched off each desolate day on Jakku.  
She needed to process the events of the last year. Then she could perhaps figure out her place, work out how to live with her grief over Ben and exist as half a Dyad.

“I’ll stay on the island for a while,” she confirmed and it was satisfying to say it out loud. “I may travel elsewhere, but I can’t say where.”  
“That’s up to you, Rey,” D’Acy told her softly. “We’ll always be here for you.”  
D’Acy rose from the chair, wiping her forehead, brushing back a stray curl of fair hair. She nodded and smiled and turned to leave.

Rey spoke up just as she reached the doorway. “Commander, I don’t want Targen and Beyanga pestering me again after this. If they believe he’s out there somewhere then let them go and search for him. Leave me out of it.”  
“I understand,” D’Acy acknowledged. BB-8 beeped agreeably.  
“And there’s another thing,” Rey added.  
“Go on.”  
“We travel there in the Falcon and I take Chewie as my co-pilot.”

It was another misty day and the two suns were milky discs in the sky. Three of the grey creatures led him up the grassy hill. He trudged slowly in a pair of stiff felted boots which had been presented to him that morning. He remained tired and shaky despite a long dreamless sleep and warmth and energy from an exceptionally large breakfast. The three seabirds followed in a chaotic dance of hopping and flapping and cawing. The smallest one, with larger eyes and a dark brown head, struggled in the longer grass, so he scooped it up and tucked it beneath his arm.

After several stops they reached a neat set of grey stone huts. The sea whooshed below and the seabirds on the cliffs were crying out. He cried out himself on recognising the squat domed structures. He had been here with the girl. She had been standing outside one, her face tight with anger, armed with a blaster.

Dizziness buzzed at his head and he fumbled to sit on a low wall. His carers fussed at him. He felt disorientated, like on the boat, the world tilting and images shifting. She had shouted at him, her face cross and pinched like in his memory of their ocean battle. He stifled a sob, his head hung low, one hand over his mouth. He couldn’t reason why if he loved her and she was his girl why he remembered her being angry with him. It hurt him to see her fury and he knew that he was the cause of it. His shoulders heaved and tears fell as he realised that he may have been the cause of her death as well.  
His carers patted and prodded at him and he willed himself to stop crying. With a shuddering breath and a couple of loud wet sniffs he stood up.  
“So,” he said in a thick voice, “where was the girl?”

The hut looked lumpier than the others and he realised that at some point it had been rebuilt. The leader led him inside and lit two chunky candles.  
There was a narrow dark wood bed by one wall. He stood very still and took it all in. There in the middle was the firepit where he had stretched out to touch her hand. There was a small wooden chair which looked like it would break if he sat on it. He touched it before moving around, running his hand over the cool stone walls, the dented pans huddled on a shelf. A green cape was draped from a hook and he gathered it up. He asked the leader who was watching him solemnly. “The girl wore this, didn’t she?”  
She nodded.  
He held it to him for a moment, smoothed it down and replaced it. Leaving it there he fancied she may return and slip it over her head.

The carers gestured that he could remain in the hut and then left him. He peered out to see them waddling into another hut and emerging with brushes and a small wooden barrow. The seabirds explored the stone slabs but the small one remained with him, content to hop about the floor and give the odd squawk of exclamation.  
He perched on the bed and fondled the cream and brown striped blanket folded at the bottom of it. He shuddered. This has been her blanket. He remembered it draped around her bare shoulders. Her bare skin and her wet hair flashed clearly in his mind followed by a tug of desire in his groin. As he unfolded the blanket he glanced at the doorway and he flinched.

There had been a man. He and his girl had been disturbed by a man.  
He stared at the door, breathing heavily. The man’s shadow had loomed, his arms outstretched. He remembered feeling angry and very afraid of the man. There had been a rumbling noise and then nothing. He pressed his lips together, frowned and rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t recover anything else. But the fear lingered like the dampness in the hut, like the cold of the cave.

He trembled and wrapped her blanket around his shoulders. It smelled musty and sour but he knew the sourness originated from her. So despite the angry confrontations he knew he must have held her. He must have been close enough to her to smell the scent of her skin. He nuzzled his face into the fabric, comforted by its embrace. But most of all he was relieved to have something solid from his memory.

He spent some time in the hut, listening to the ocean, hearing the clatter and babble of the grey creatures outside. He lifted the little seabird on to the bed, stroking its warm firm back, humming. The tune was simple and familiar. His mother had sung it to him. He saw her dark hair and eyes, a radiant face, felt her hands smooth back his hair. He smiled and hummed and he felt better, calm.  
The bird trilled and wriggled under his fingers. With its large eyes and domed brown head it reminded him of his girl.  
“Girl,” he murmured, cooing to it. “I’m going to name you Girl.” The bird closed its eyes and snuggled next to his thigh.

He ventured outside to discover that the mist was clearing. He could see the heaving ocean, the jagged outline of the cliffs. Green and white and blue filled his vision, wild and beautiful. He helped his carers move a few large stones and then took a small brush and swept around the steps leading to the enclave. His seabird companions watched him from a bumpy wall supplying caws of encouragement. Girl was the loudest.

They returned to the village under a blustery blue cloudswept sky. He was tired and a little sore from his exertions but he felt relaxed and ready for food and sleep. Girl was tucked under his arm and the other two birds rode in a basket slung from his shoulder. Wrapped around him like a cape shoulders was the striped brown blanket.

The same blanket accompanied him to bed. He pressed his face to it and let it soak up his tears. He dozed, and in his thin sleep he saw her laying still, her face grey and her eyes staring coldly. He was terrified. He clutched her to him, desperate to feel some warmth. But she was cold. He had felt her die while he was scrabbling out of that ghastly pit. That was bad. This was worse.  
He woke panting and scrabbling to sit up. He felt his mind unravelling as he recalled the heavy feel of her in his arms, his terror, his aching emptiness.

Then in a series brilliant blue flickers he saw. He had laid her in his lap; he had rested his hand on her abdomen. He had given. His strength and his life flowed out of him into her. The memory was like a punch to the face. Her hand, warm and soft and light had placed itself on his. A voice as tender as a kiss, “I would have taken your hand. Ben’s hand.” His heart was full and it leapt into his throat. Her eyes had brightened as they darted over his face.

She was alive. 

Somehow he had saved her. She was alive. In his bed he breathed heavily, his hands in his hair, the birds trilling in annoyance at being disturbed. His carer, who had dropped her knitting and left her chair when he’d woken, bent to him and crowed at him quizzically.

“She’s alive!” he hooted at her. “She came back! I brought her back! And...” he remembered her smile, her joyful smile, and then he yelped with glee, “...she kissed me!”  
Sobbing with elation, he reached forward and grabbed one of the birds. It was the large speckled one. He squeezed it tight, bringing it to his chest. It cheeped in alarm.  
“She kissed me!” he proclaimed, squeezing it again. This time it emitted a loud rasping fart which startled them both. It writhed out of his grasp with an aggrieved caw and flapped its stumpy wings at him. At this he fell back on his bed, bent double, and laughed so hard that he farted too.


	12. Energy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working with Chewie and Poe, Rey makes preparations for the journey to Ahch-To, working on the Falcon and making plans with Poe. She is able to tell Poe a little about her background on Jakku.  
> On Ahch-To Ben gets a makeover Caretaker style and is strong enough to volunteer for a day's work at the stone hut village. He sees a little more of the island and makes an important connection.  
> No one farts in this chapter.

Chapter 12 – Energy

Rey found Chewie in the Falcon, one paw wrapped around a clump of blue wires while using the other to shoo away a curious porg. He yowled at it, complaining that it and its companions shouldn’t be using the Falcon as their home, promising that his next eviction attempt would be successful.  
“Hey,” she greeted, trying to act relaxed. She hadn’t seen the Wookie since the celebration night. Noticing her standing alone and gulping back tears he had tried to hug her but she had pushed him away. He had responded with a forlorn moan and shambled back to the others.  
Chewie told her that it was about time she showed up to help him with the messy Falcon.  
“Messy? It’s that bad, huh?”  
Terrible, he barked before describing at some length all the damage it had sustained. In his opinion it really needed to be shut down, stripped back.  
“Ah, that can’t happen,” Rey replied with an apologetic smile.  
He tilted his head at her. The porg hopped closer to him, waggling its stubby curved tail, only to be batted away.  
Rey folded her arms and looked up into his eyes. “You and I are taking her on a journey. We have two days before we leave for Ahch-To.”

They set off on their triage tour. As they opened bays and lifted hatches, the Wookie emphasized that he wouldn’t sacrifice his orderly approach to repairs because of the tight timescale.  
“I know how you like to work and I’m grateful,” Rey acknowledged as she curled her fingers around a communications panel. She grunted as she applied pressure.  
“The amount of times things have popped open and fallen off without warning,” she complained. “So why won’t this thing...” she did a passable Wookie growl, “...come loose when I need it to?”  
Chewie patted her shoulder and reassured her that if they worked together they could patch up the ship and gather supplies.  
“I hope so, Chewie,” she admitted, pulling harder at the panel. “Perhaps some urgency will do me good.”  
Chewie growled in disagreement. To him it looked like the only thing to do her any good was a week’s sleep.

“I’ll rest on the island when you’ve all gone,” Rey informed him.  
Chewie shrugged.  
“I promise!” she wagged a finger at him. “I’ll sleep and meditate and learn to fish, and I won’t do anything to make the Caretakers angry with me. I may even win them over.”  
Chewie shrugged again and Rey had to agree with his uncertainty about her last wish.  
Speaking of the island natives, he reminded her that it was the perfect chance to repatriate the Falcon’s growing porg family to their island home.  
“Yep, I think a lot of the damage is down to those little guys,” Rey assessed, stepping back and rubbing her hands. “They seem very comfortable nesting in the circuit bays, but they need to return there. To their home.”

She tried plucking the panel loose again but it remained stuck. Chewie rummaged in his tin toolbox and handed her a slender screwdriver.  
Rey wiped her forehead with her arm, her sleeve wrap acting as a welcome sweat absorber. She had forgotten how easy she found Chewie’s company. She liked that he was protective of her while sensing when not to crowd her.  
“At least they have a home,” she mused while manoeuvring the screwdriver to lever open the panel, “I don’t have one. Not really.”  
She gazed around the cockpit, at the bristling banks of lights and switches, the scruffy seats, the mismatched control yokes. “Perhaps this is the closest thing I have to a home,” she conceded.  
He moaned softly and nodded. She angled the screwdriver this way and that but the panel stayed firmly shut.  
“Or perhaps the island is?” she considered. “I’m excited to return there now. To explore it properly.”  
Chewie told her that he fancied a change of scene and eating more of the large firm fish. On seeing her still battling with the panel he took the screwdriver from her and moved her gently aside. With a snarl he punched the panel once with his hairy fist. The panel clattered to the floor.  
Rey grinned at him and she felt a surge of pleasure when he raised his head and let free his loud Wookie guffaw. 

She bent her head to inspect the circuit board. Chewie passed her a plasma prod. Like the rest of his tools, it seemed to be of the same vintage as the Falcon.  
“A lot of strange things have happened to me in the last few days,” Rey murmured as she tested the components. “Things I can’t explain.”  
Chewie was silent, and she knew that he was regarding her closely. She continued, savouring the familiar smell of electrical ozone, “I have these sensations like I’m back there, feeling the wind, the sea, my fire. You remember how cold it was there?”  
Chewie barked in agreement. Even for me, he admitted.

Rey poked at a loose wire. “This time I must be better prepared. If I’m to rest I’ll need as much comfort as possible. Master Skywalker was tougher than me. Or perhaps he liked to suffer the cold as a way of punishing himself.”  
Chewie replied that he didn’t know, adding that punishing yourself was a waste of time anyway.  
“Easy to say,” she sighed, the prod sizzling as it connected with the active circuits. She pressed her lips together, pretending that she was scowling at her work. She wondered if part of her motive for going to Ahch-To was to punish herself for Ben. To serve penance for allowing him to die for her. She took a deep breath and shook the thought away like a porg ridding itself of excess water after a swim. Looking at the state of the Falcon all her attention and energy needed to be focused on the practicalities of the journey first.

Rey finished with the circuit, noting the type of wire which needed replacing. The Wookie was reaching overhead to expose more of the Falcon’s chaotic innards.  
“Chewie, do you know if I left my blanket and poncho here in the Falcon? I hope those porgs haven’t been roosting on them. Or did I leave them ...” her words faded. It was happened again. Just thinking of that cream and brown striped blanket she could feel it on her. She felt its snug weight and the heat of the spitting fire. She was tilting sideways and she gasped. Chewie turned and steadied her with his great paw.  
“Yes, that was it,” she told him shakily, “I was feeling something so vivid. I was back in the hut tucked underneath my blanket. I could even smell it, but it ...” she sniffed and closed her eyes. “It smelled different, it smelled like ...”  
She tailed off, realising that it smelled like Ben’s undershirt. 

She spent the rest of the afternoon working contentedly with Chewie, encouraged that they had made a solid start. He left for a while and returned with three mechanics, a crate of assorted oily metal parts plus a tub stuffed with coils of conductive tubing. Rey was impressed.  
Chewie set them to work on the primary processor of the hyperdrive engine while she and the Wookie continued in the cockpit. The hypertransceiver was still temperamental despite previous modifications and Rey suggested that R2-D2 could inspect it. Chewie divulged that the droid had tried several times while on Ahch-To previously, only to render it more unstable.  
“Well, keep at it, Chewie,” she encouraged. “We need it working the best it can. I wonder if the Force interferes with transmissions from Ahch-To?”  
Chewie growled that it was entirely possible, though he was more inclined to blame the porgs. He’d noticed that their joy of tugging at wires seemed to have no limits.

The porg which had been pestering Chewie had switched allegiances and was huddling up to Rey.  
She paused in her work to pet its small soft head and it cawed gently. “Feels good, huh?”  
She scratched its neck and it squirmed and trilled. “Is that what you wanted? A little affection?”  
The porg gazed up at her with imploring black eyes. Rey flinched as she tried to push away the memory of holding Ben, of the feel of his hand, large but gentle, stroking the back of her neck.  
She wiped her forehead and dabbed at her eyes. In the next moment Chewie had enfolded her in his firm furry arms. This time she let him hold her, her tears trickling onto his warm shaggy chest. 

It was a breezy morning on the island, with sporadic sweeps of rain rinsing the cove. The grey stones glistened and the air was redolent with the smell of salt and grass. Feeling invigorated after three bowls of stodgy hot porridge and two cups of sweet tea, he offered to accompany his carers to the stone huts on the south of the island. He cleaned up the breakfast dishes, stoked the fire and shooed the birds outside so he could air his bed. He carefully folded his girl’s blanket and laid it on his pillow. In the small wooden shack designated as a toilet, he considered improving it with some sort of bench to sit on. Currently he squatted over a hole which was what the carers chose to do. The more he was eating the longer he had to spend in its drafty confines and his legs quickly began to ache. If they disagreed he would propose building one for himself to accommodate his different physiology.

In the laundry hut he smoothed down his straggly beard. He asked the carers if he they had anything to remove it with but they only shrugged and handed him a small oval brush. They indicated that it was his hair which needed tidying. The carer who knitted and slept in the chair in his hut stood on a stool. He obediently knelt and stooped so she could fuss with his head. With surprisingly deft fingers she scooped his hair back from his face, fastening it with a red plait of wool with tiny pearly shells knotted in to it.  
“That feels better. It was becoming annoying, flopping over my eyes. Thank you,” he responded and smiled. As he got to his feet she clapped her small grey hands together with a whistle of delight. Girl had returned and hopped up and down on the slabbed floor, emitting squeaky caws as if she had done the hairdressing herself.

The carers brought him a beautifully flexible leather-like cape which they arranged around his neck and shoulders to give some protection against the light rain. He gathered the three birds and placed them inside their basket and slung it over his shoulder. A woven bag of food for the day ahead hung from his other shoulder and a bundle of sticks dangled from his right hand. Three of the carers followed behind him armed with a few light tools. He strode easily up the grassy hill, enjoying the sprinkles of rain on his face and the rush of the wind in his ears.

Rey’s strategy was to catch Poe when he was relaxed after eating the evening meal and sinking a few cups of the hooch brewed by a couple of pilots behind the fuel sheds. Rey suspected from her only sip that it contained a fair proportion of what was in the sheds. Poe was irked, not at being asked, but because she hadn’t asked sooner.  
“I had intended to offer my services to you and Chewie today,” he sighed and pushed his tin plate to one side. “But I was busy organising squads of pilots.”  
“What for?” asked Rey.  
“To accompany envoys. But that lasted longer than I’d hoped. There’s difficulty deciding where to go first and with how many people.”  
“Oh, yes, there must be,” Rey agreed.  
“So I sent BB-8 to look for you but some hotshot nabbed him to help configure a couple of fighters.”  
“Poe, it sounds like you’re busy enough,” Rey murmured in dismay. “I feel bad asking you to come with us.”  
“No, don’t. I ran it past Commander D’Acy. She agreed that I could be spared for a while. Though I may back out when you tell me more.” He smiled at her and she grinned back.

Poe and Rey moved to a small bench under the patchy shadows of a tree. He listened intently as she outlined the journey times, and how she would lead on scouting the island and then stay there for a while alone. She proposed that Poe would return on the Falcon with Chewie, BB-8, Targen and Beyanga.  
“So you’ll be left with my X-wing,” he considered with a frown. “You’d better take great care it.”  
“And you with the Falcon,” she shot back. “We’re still repairing the damage you did to it. I’ve never seen so many fried circuits. I thought you’d taken it for a tour of Mustafar.”  
“That so?” he challenged, but then he smiled and gulped the last of his hooch. He seemed immune to its eye-watering, lung-convulsing properties. “I recall you almost destroyed my droid.”  
Rey huffed. “That was hardly the same thing!”  
Poe threw his hands up. “It was BB-8! How could you?”  
He laughed, his face flushed and shiny. She considered him a handsome man and at that moment thought it was a shame that she hadn’t fallen in love with him. That her path had lain with the enemy rather than with a recognised Resistance hero.  
She wondered how easy it would have been for Ben, if he had lived, to have returned to Arjan Kloss with her. She imagined him limping alongside her with his bruised face and torn shirt, one hand around her waist, the other wrapped around the Skywalker lightsaber. Ben Solo, the newest Resistance hero. 

“I really didn’t like the idea of you going with those creeps,” Poe said, interrupting her thoughts. She rubbed her eyes and nodded.  
“Even with Chewie there,” he added. “And your incredible powers.”  
Rey looked down at her boots. She contemplated finding new ones with sturdier soles. “Ah, yes, my powers. Did I scare you?”  
“Absolutely. The hut was bad enough, but the forest was wrecked. But I was more worried about you, what it had done to you, Rey. You were so still and pale and empty.”  
“It ... it was too much, too soon. I – I haven’t even tried to process my link to Palpatine. It seems preposterous. I wish I was a nobody from nothing, Poe.”  
Poe was silent and she felt comfortable enough to continue.  
“My parents, I thought they were nobodies, too. Junk traders,” she explained. “They left me on Jakku to keep me safe, but they left me with no one to care for me, no one to protect me. I was a child.”  
She shuddered when she thought of Unkar Plutt. “I want to believe my parents were that desperate to conceal me that they didn’t investigate who they were leaving me with. I had been so afraid.” 

Kylo Ren had targeted that fear immediately, and she had been relieved he hadn’t had time to probe further to see her selling herself for food in a desperate handful of squalid encounters. Besides the risk of starving to death she recalled the constant threat of attack, of rape or of being enslaved to someone more abhorrent and cruel than Plutt. There were worse than him, she knew, much worse.  
She didn’t tell Poe this. She would never tell anyone. Ben, perhaps, would have heard about how she lived in dread of being killed for the scrap tucked inside the net on her speeder.

“I bet you were. I know about fear and I know about making mistakes,” Poe said eventually, passing his empty cup from hand to hand and gazing out at the forest clearing. The air was cooling as the sun faded and the lights from the assorted huts and tents flickered on one by one. The camp looked almost pretty.  
“But we’re still here. And you have us now. We will care for and protect you, Rey.” He smiled softly and turned to her, one arm ready to wrap around her. He was waiting for her to respond but she turned away and sniffed back the tears.  
He cleared his throat and shifted forward as if to get up.  
Rey touched his sleeve softly. “Poe, if you’re going to get more of that dreadful hooch, bring me some would you?”

He reached a saddle of grassy ground high up above the stone village. He had walked too far. The carers were strewn out below and he waved to them. He watched their grey and cream forms waddle into the huddle of stone huts then he set down the basket of birds, sagging food bag and sticks.  
He stood still and marvelled at the vista. There was a set of mossy crooked stone steps leading further up along a pinnacle of tall rocks. The wind swirled around but he could still hear the crash of the sea far below. Light shimmered and undulated on the water’s surface and the sky above seemed endless to him.  
This was the place, he knew. He sensed something waiting for him. Not like in the cave, where the darkness had tried to clutch at him. He felt energy here. Something brighter than the light from the suns and more powerful than the wind. He gasped and spread out his arms out, his head thrown back, eyes closed. He trembled and let it move over him. A voice in the breeze, “Ben, feel it.”  
“Yes, yes,” he cried out and he did feel it. He was the breeze stirring the grass and then racing up to tousle the clouds. He was the suns, pulsing with heat and light. He was the rocks and the still cool earth. He was the rain soaring in droplets and then plunging to the seething waves below.  
Then it vanished. He dropped to his knees and covered his face with his hands. 

He remained seated on the ground for a while, regaining his breath. The birds had climbed out of their basket and were investigating the food bag. He shooed them off and gathered up the bag and sticks and made his way down the hill to the huts. The birds hopped after him, squawking. His legs were a little shaky but he felt exhilarated. He was certain that he had felt that energy before, that it had been central to his life.


	13. Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey finds not only a special speeder to take to Ahch-To but her connection to the Force. She hears a disturbing rumour about Kylo Ren.  
> At the end of this chapter, she pays a visit to someone very special, someone to whom she can pour out her feelings about Ben.
> 
> Ben is intrigued by a large hut with a metal door and starts to learn the Caretaker's language. He names another of his porgs and and impresses the Caretaker's with his fish cookery skills. He remembers a vital thing about his girl.
> 
> And he discovers a decent toilet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never realised I would enjoy researching and writing about speeders. I guess my flirtation with motorbikes when I was younger came in handy.  
> I loved writing the last part and found it emotional. It was hard to avoid some exposition so please gloss over that if you can. I just wanted to write about Rey's feelings about herself and Ben.  
> Hope you enjoy this one!  
> I love reading your comments and appreciate you taking time to add them!  
> Next chapter the Falcon sets off to the island!

Chapter 13 – Air

The next morning Rey and Poe made their way to the maintenance area. Poe’s eyes were red-rimmed and he yawned loudly and regularly. Rey felt rather perky; one cup of the fiery hooch had slid her into a heavy-limbed black slumber. She had sauntered to the communal dining area where any grogginess had been dispelled by cool dark cala juice and a couple of sticky pastries. 

Red Five reared above a scrum of newly arrived craft, some whole but most in pieces. Davv Irek jogged towards them, as grimy as ever.  
“I can hardly move for new kit!” he exclaimed while his grin grew even larger. “It’s amazing what the First Order confiscated. Stuff that people thought vanished decades ago!”  
“Davv, I’m sorry,” Rey began, “I know I was meant to be helping around here, but...”  
He shook his head, waving a black smeared hand at her. “Don’t be. I heard that there was some, uhm, bother. And that you weren’t feeling well.”  
Rey blushed and flicked her eyes away. “Something like that. Anyway, it’s sorted and I’m better now.”  
“I know. You and Chewbacca stealing three of my best to work on that rust bucket!”  
“I’ll make it up to you. I promise,” she reassured him.  
Davv smiled. “You just make sure you’re okay first,” he told her, lightly touching her arm.  
Poe stepped forward, scratching his head. “We’re looking for speeders. Ideally a few different types.”  
Davv led them to the main shelter, a tilted construction of canvas and metal panels. Rey enjoyed the smell of metal and grease and wished that she had come here the other day. Instead of crying in bed she realised she should have been elbow deep in broken engines.  
“So what’s the reason for speeders?” Davv asked as they surveyed the jumble of metal and wheels. 

Rey explained the mission to Ahch-To and how the island was very steep in places with plenty of uneven ground. “As much as I would love to see Targen get his boots dirty and Beyanga struggle up those stone steps, it makes sense to sweep the island on speeders,” she concluded. She had spotted a couple of promising vehicles already.  
“Looking for Kylo Ren? Why?” Davv inquired, looking comically puzzled.  
“They suspect that he’s there,” Poe confirmed. “Though I believe Rey when she says he’s dead.”  
Davv’s broad grimy face turned to her. “Is it true that you killed him, Rey? It’s just ... I wasn’t sure before. You know, there are still so many things to find out.”

“Yes, it’s true,” Rey established. She glanced around, hoping that they caught the hint that she wanted to steer the subject back to acquiring speeders.  
“It’s best that he is dead,” Poe asserted. “Best for us. Best for him. Because there would be a lot of people queuing up to hurt him.”  
“Yeah,” breathed Davv and Rey didn’t care for the greedy look which was now smeared across his face alongside the engine grease.  
“And yes, I’d be tempted to join that queue,” Poe added. Rey dared to look at him but he looked grave.  
She tried to scramble together a suitable reply but Davv clapped his hands together.  
“I’m personally hoping we get our hands on some of his tech,” he enthused. “Apparently, he only had the best. He had bespoke kit we could never imagine. He could access all the latest developments from Sienar-Jaemus.”  
Poe nodded in appreciation but Rey stepped forward.  
“Guys, the speeders,” she began in a clipped voice.

Davv ignored her. “Someone said that Kylo Ren slept in a modified bacta tank and someone else said that he kept women in cells near his quarters so he could rape and torture them whenever he felt like it.”  
“I could believe that. He was a sadist.” Poe agreed.  
Rey frowned at the two men and gave them both a hard stare. But inside she was busy wondering if it was true. Kylo had been dangerous and corrupted and would take at any cost. But he hadn’t done so with her. She had been strapped down and at his mercy. But that was her. She didn’t know what he had done with other women. She would never know and she didn’t care. Kylo didn’t matter anymore. Or she had thought that was the case. She was shaken by such an idea and angry to hear two men who she considered decent discussing him like that.  
“Can we stop this?” she said sharply. “We may never know and all these rumours are just that. Rumours.” She aimed another hard stare and was rewarded with silence.  
“Well?” she snapped at Davv. “You know our requirements. Show us what you have.”

Davv presented a couple of rusty 74-Z speeder bikes. One was stripped down for agile flying with an extra repulsorlift coil for added boost. “You could blast into space on this one!” Davv told them as if he was conducting a sale at Niima Outpost.  
Rey chose the unmodified one, assessing it with a quick eye and skilled hand. It looked like it needed a few parts swapping out and a decent clean. As they scouted round for a bigger craft to accommodate more crew Rey spied a swoop bike. She admired its green livery speckled with camouflage patterns and chipped gold swirls. “This looks great,” she breathed.  
“Yeah, it’s basically an engine with a seat,” Davv pointed out. He hauled it away from a tangle of metal which looked like it had been part of a treadspeeder.  
“It’s a Starhawk, isn’t it?” Rey asked, her eyes taking in the long low slung profile, the worn padded leather seat. Behind that was a second seat, not quite as worn. She loved how the engine was packed at the front with the seat behind, the twin exhausts flaring out at either side.  
“It is,” Davv confirmed. “How did you know?”  
“The nose,” Rey answered, “the long elegant nose and the triangular repulsor at the front. I’ve only seen pictures of them.” She smiled and stroked the seat as if to confirm that it was real.  
“It’s very hard to control. You’d be safer even with the stripped bike,” Davv advised.  
“Is it working?” Rey blurted out, unable to her hide her excited interest. 

She missed her old speeder which she had constructed herself and enthusiastically maintained and enhanced. She straddled the Starhawk and dropped into the seat. It was as if it was made to hold her. She didn’t even have to adjust the foot platforms. It fired up with a screech and a couple of worrying clanks, knocking over the vehicles around it with a clatter. Rey juddered in the seat as she gripped its hand controls. It was as jittery as a Taun Taun in mating season. Ready to leap forward at the slightest touch, it thrummed between her legs and her teeth chattered as she inched it forward. She adored it. “Fancy joining me, Poe?” she invited as she patted the seat behind her. She was satisfied to see the horror on his face.  
“Not a chance!” he shouted over the throaty chug of the bike. “I’ll fly most things, but as for getting on the back of that - no way! You’re on your own with that one!”  
“That’s fine,” Rey acknowledged and with a lurch and a fume of oily smoke it launched into the air taking her with it. 

She returned shaky with adrenaline. As a racing swoop, it was able to bank steeply around corners, and she found its acceleration truly phenomenal. Davv was right; it had been difficult to control plus it felt heavy on the left side. It jolted and tilted, often close to colliding into trees. Just as she lost her grip and it had swung down in a wild belching arc of smoke she had reached out and caught the Force like a lover’s hand. She felt it hum through her, more powerful than any speeder engine; she felt it pulsing in the air around her, lifting her, spinning her. “Rey, feel it,” the words rang out in her head. The final loop the loop sucked the breath from her, but she had just enough air to yell out in joy.  
Back on the ground she caressed the seat affectionately. Poe and Davv gawked at her before Davv let out a bray of laughter as loud as the swoop’s engine. “Well, Rey, that’s you sorted out!”  
“What about our guests?” asked Poe as she crouched and inspected the hot ticking engine pipes. But she wasn’t listening. She was seeking the source of the heaviness and she couldn’t wait to prise open up its shiny guts and make it better. Make it hers. 

Ben set to work brushing around the huts, piling the debris into a barrow and trundling it to a waste pile. Girl enjoyed this part of his chores the most as she hopped into the barrow and rode along, squeaking at each jolt it made over uneven slabs. The sun slanted in and out of the clouds and he removed his outer garments, tending and bending dressed only in his loose dark trousers, felted boots and a thin vest. The vest had been sewed for him the day before, consisting of the same cream cotton from which the carers’ aprons were fashioned. He rubbed the sweat off his face with his forearm and considered binding strips of cloth around his arm. He’d seen that type of clothing before but he couldn’t place it. He made a note to ask for some material when they returned to the cove.

Soon it was time for food. He established a fire in the tool hut and one of the carers brought in a squirmy bundle of fresh fish. He arranged them on the spit and warded off the birds. “Go and catch your own,” he chided them as he poked the fire and turned the fish.  
He unpacked the food bag and laid out stiff bread rolls and brittle fronds of dried seaweed. The carers pottered about singing and banging spoons. They seemed to love his fish cookery and made plenty of satisfied noises as they munched outside. He remembered the camp long ago and the smiling faces lit by the flames. There was a girl. Not his girl; this girl was pretty too, but she had long red hair. She was smiling at him and in his memory he felt her touch his arm. He wondered who she was, if she was even his sister or cousin. This was his most persistent memory other than the ones of his girl so he guessed it held some importance in his life.

In the afternoon he was free to explore, the birds waddling and flapping in his wake. He was delighted to find a stone toilet hut which had a thick wooden seat with a hole in it. He tested it, enjoying the comfort and admiring the small ventilation slit and convenient basket of moss. One of the birds scratched at the door and he yelled at it to go away. He remained there for a while, enjoying the privacy and peace. It occurred to him that the man whose clothes he wore had made this. The same man who he was afraid of. He wondered where the man was and if he might return and shuddered. 

He explored all the stone huts and the low walls. A large hut at the edge of the compound had a squat stone bench outside it. He pushed at the metal door with his shoulder but it didn’t move. He was about to try again and give it the force of his full weight when the carer leader hooted at him. She lumbered up to him, wagging her hands and looking displeased.  
“Oocha!” she cried, shaking her head. “Oocha!”  
He realised that this was the sound for “no.”  
“Oocha?” he echoed. “Ben oocha?” he pointed at himself and then the metal door.  
She nodded. “Benchoo oocha negay!”  
He bent forward and repeated what she had crowed to him.  
She nodded again.  
“I understand,” he replied, though he didn’t. “Ben can’t go in there.”

With the large hut out of bounds he headed up the slope. His chubby birds were flapping about clumsily and the large one scared him when it launched itself off the edge of the cliff with a long screech. The others seemed unperturbed while he anxiously tried to see where the bird had gone. It was on a ledge and from there it dove into the sea. He watched it bob and duck beneath the shifting water, its stubby tail flicking from side to side. He laughed and shook his head.  
He noticed a natural rock ledge dark with water just to the right of where the bird splashed. He moved down the hill towards it, joining the flight of steps. He was amazed at how large it was. The sea crashed up at the edge, spraying him and he wished he had at least brought his poncho. His thin vest was dark and heavy with seawater and he wiped his arms. He brought his hand to his mouth to taste the salt water and stopped still.

His girl had been here, on this very spot. But he remembered it as looking different. There had been a dark shape behind her which wasn’t there now. He reckoned it was a kind of building. He saw her there in her green cape looking at him.  
“Murderous snake!” she had hissed at him. He flinched, whirling round in confusion. He couldn’t believe the words or the hostility on her face. He tried to press further, but he saw nothing more than her bared teeth and dark angry eyes.

He was glad to return to the stone village. The large bird who he named Speckles on account of its white patchy markings, strutted to him with a large red spotted fish in its mouth.  
“Good bird,” he praised, wondering how it managed to make it back up the cliff face. Speckles trilled and dropped the fish at his feet.  
“Okay, I’ll cook it when we get back. And you can have most of it. You deserve it,” he declared as he collected the fish and placed it gently in the food bag. Speckles cawed raucously, his domed head tilting back.  
He headed into his girl’s hut to collect a few items. He selected a candle and a pan, things that he could use without too many questions from the carers. He really desired the cape but left it hanging up. 

He was upset that he only had one very grainy memory of holding and kissing her, but plenty of adversarial ones. He wondered if he had imagined the kiss and bringing her back to life. He dismissed that idea quickly. He understood that the potent energy he had experienced on the hillside was the same which had flowed from him into her. He recalled that spume of love washing over him that day at the cove, a sensation so compelling that he had taken a boat out to sea to reach her. He yawned and rubbed at his face then he tied the pan to the bag and tucked the candle in his waistband. It was time to return to the cove. He was glad at the prospect of a warm fire and a lie down.

Rey’s arms ached from battling with the Starhawk and hauling toolboxes and other supplies. She had returned to the Falcon to discover Chewie in the middle of a yowling Wookie meltdown and two of Davv’s best crew cowering away from him. Her mind was tired from acting as peace keeper. Finally she had left Chewie in a reasonable temper, but she fretted all the way back to her quarters about both his and the Falcon’s ability to make the journey the next day. She huddled in her bunk but was wide awake. BB-8 was by the door, his lights gleaming in the gloom.  
She was tempted to seek out the hooch to knock her out but instead she dressed in a vest and loose trousers and took up the two Skywalker lightsabers.

In the quiet shadowy forest she stalked around the clearing she had carved out with her anger. Stubs of trees still pointed up and leaves lay in shrivelled messy piles. Poe had said it was wrecked and she gave a bitter laugh at the understatement.  
She admitted that she had done this. She took in the full realisation that it had been her alone. She could not hide it. She decided she must face who she was. She ignited both the sabers and stood firm with one in each hand.  
“I am Rey,” she muttered. “I am Rey and I am Light and I am Dark. I am, I am.” She repeated the mantra, reaching for the Force. It was coy, appearing close to her then receding like a tide. She swung the sabers in blue blazing arcs and repeated the words. At each lunge and parry their energy buzzed into her arms, pooling in her chest, running into her legs. She concentrated hard and found the Force all around her. It was bright and it was black, it was soothing and it was seething. It was. It just was. She glided up into the air as smooth as a shooting star. She hovered and delighted in the blue-lit calmness around her. Then she lowered herself quietly and gently to the ground. 

He dropped asleep easily, just like Speckles slipping off the cliff. But he woke in the grey furry morning light in terror. He had dreamed of the pit again. He and his girl were there struggling, hovering in the air, bound tight. A nasty voice roared in his ears like a coldest wind he’d ever felt. He recognised that voice. “My boy,” it rasped and he broke out in a shivery sweat. It was from the same darkness as that in the cave. He lay trembling and crying in his bed, his face in the brown striped blanket.  
“No, no, please, no,” he sobbed over and over.  
His hut carer came to him, her cool hand on his head. “Oocha,” she cooed. “Kaya oocha Benchoo?”  
He whimpered and touched her hand. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “I don’t know what I’m so afraid of. I don’t even know who I am.”  
He raised himself up, scrubbing at his face with the sleeve of his robe. He sniffed back a rope of snot. “Bet I look a sight, huh?” he asked miserably.  
The birds had woken and were wriggling at the foot of his bed. He recognised Girl’s rusty sounding cry.  
“Halla,” his carer cawed. He huffed. “Yes? Is that yes?”  
“Halla,” she repeated and she touched his cheek. He almost cried again at the tenderness in her small eyes.  
“Maybe it’s good that I’m here. That my mother and Rey can’t see me like this,” he told her and then he gasped, eyes wide, mouth open. “Rey,” he breathed in wonder. “Halla, Rey. Halla!”

Rey strolled back to the camp knowing that she was ready. Except for one thing.  
She approached the hulking gloomy bulk of the Tantive IV. After punching in a code the door swished open and Rey wandered past dim rooms with banks of screens, spaces stacked with crates and cables. The odd light showed as crew worked through the night on comms with other systems. No one approached her. She reached the small vestibule and tidied her hair. A nurse with cropped dark hair sat inside swiping at a holopad.  
“You can’t be here,” she informed Rey.  
“No,” Rey answered. “I have to see her.”  
She nudged at the nurse’s mind. Just a fraction. She felt a quiver.  
“I have to see her,” she repeated firmly.  
The nurse put aside the holopad. “You have to see her.”  
“This way, please,” Rey pushed again.  
She was led inside.

The chamber was gloomy but lit by orange lights which made it seem cosy. Inside the medicapsule General Leia Organa lay flat on her back. The hiss of air and beep of the monitor were the only sounds. Rey stared at Leia’s chest, straining to see if it was rising and falling. It was.  
“Hey, it’s me, Rey,” she whispered. “I know I haven’t been to see you, but you are guarded so well. You would be proud.”  
“But I’m here now. I need to talk to you. I know you may not hear me, but still ...” she tailed off, unsure, cocking her head to ensure that the nurse wasn’t in earshot.  
Leia looked beautiful with her hair swept back under a white medicap. Her simple white robe glowed with the orange light and her skin was clear and smooth. As Rey inspected her she saw the shape of Ben’s forehead, brow and eyes sketched out perfectly in his mother’s. She took a long shaky breath.  
“What happened, Leia? Did you feel him die and then give up? You were so strong for so long.”  
She paused, unsure whether to continue, or whether she could continue. This was far harder than she imagined it would be.

“Because I know he is dead,” she uttered and her voice shook on the last word. “He’s dead. And do you know why? I can’t feel him anymore.”  
Rey shook her head. “No. Kylo had such a humming angry Force presence and it’s gone. But the love I felt from him has also gone. Yes, as Kylo he loved me. And as Ben ... he was full of love.”  
She squeezed her eyes shut but the tears were burning now.  
“I have a hole inside me that I can’t imagine will ever heal. I don’t know where to start, but I’m trying. I wish you could tell me. You lived with so much loss and pain and I need you. I need you to tell me how to cope with it. Please.”  
She took hold of Leia’s hand and stroked it delicately. It was warm and soft and it felt wonderful. 

“My power comes from the dark,” she continued, “and you’re the only one who’s left who can understand that. But you choose hope and light. And I want to tell you that Ben had the same hope and light in him. I need to hold onto that. It burned so hard in him that I was impressed by his ability to smother it with dark.”  
She brushed away the tears which were falling in hot trickles. “I mean, really impressed. I guess that may have been the stubborn Han Solo in him.” She hitched in a breath at saying Han’s name. Outside there was silence. She sniffed and rubbed her eyes and lowered her voice.  
Leia remained still.  
“I know he had help, that the dedication to the dark wasn’t all his. But he was a good man, the best man, a brave man. He saved me. He gave his life force to me so I guess in a way he’s still here. I wish you could have seen him ... his light was blinding.”  
Ben was there then in her mind, his thick hair swept back from his injured face, his eyes blazing with love, the most shining glorious being she had ever seen.  
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t bring him home, Leia,” she sobbed. “Not even his body, not even that.” 

Rey broke down, the words incoherent. She didn’t care if the nurse heard her now. She clutched Leia’s hand in both of hers not wanting to let go of the woman she loved, of the only living link to Ben. She imagined the hand in hers cradling baby Ben, patting his bottom as she rocked him, leading him by his tiny chubby dimpled hand, combing his unruly hair.  
“You never had a chance to say goodbye,” Rey choked. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t bring him back to you.”  
She felt Leia’s hand move and froze. She blinked away tears and stared at the still woman. Another twitch and then unmistakably, a squeeze.  
“You will,” Leia sighed so quietly that Rey was convinced she had hallucinated it in her distress. But she hadn’t. “Yes, you will,” Leia whispered, her lips quivering with the effort. “You will.”


	14. Burnt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Falcon is loaded and starts her journey to the Unknown Regions where Ahch-To lies.  
> Ben makes a couple of grim discoveries on the island and then is astounded to see a familiar ship in the sky.

Chapter 14 - Burnt

Rey hurried up and down the Falcon’s ramp, ensuring that each load was accounted for and securely stowed in the hold. Though early, the air was exceptionally thick with moisture and she paused regularly to mop her face and arms with a cloth she had slung over her shoulder. She was only wearing a light grey sleeveless tunic and her pale trousers. Her beloved ankle boots usually drew sweat from her feet but were struggling in the extra humidity. 

“This beast is in around thirty pieces,” Poe gasped as he lugged another large piece of metal past her.  
“Perhaps you should have taken a much roomier First Order corvette,” drawled a voice behind Rey.  
Targen, looking thinner and more angular than ever even in the warm morning light, surveyed the activity. “Then you could have loaded equipment in one piece and saved time.”  
“Then we would have spent more time travelling. The Falcon is superior at making the hyperspace jumps to navigating the black holes, gravity wells and other delights of the Outer Rim. It’ll take days in the Falcon rather than weeks,” Rey explained briskly.  
Targen said nothing and Rey stood silent with her mouth pursed, her hands tightened into fists at her side. 

Davv trudged over to the ramp tugging a trolley heaped with engine parts.  
“Is this the Sith Trooper battle speeder?” Targen asked.  
“I believe so,” replied Rey.  
“I procured the most advanced one from the new haul from Exegol. Even though it was short notice I used my contacts to divert it here. Along with a spare tracker.”  
“Yes.” She found she couldn’t express her gratitude. “You’re not the only one who had to find things at short notice,” Rey remarked. “And we could have modified a couple of 74-Zs.”  
“No doubt. But this will transport three or even four of us in relative comfort. And the technology is pristine. Your grandfather was quite the mastermind.”  
Rey looked sharply at him. “Please don’t refer to him as that,” she snapped, looking up to the top of the ramp where Davv was panting and swearing as he manoeuvred the trolley inside the Falcon.  
Targen stepped imperceptibly away from her as she glowered at him. She was pleased he was wary of her after being subjected to her Palpatine temper. He still bore a thin red scar on his forehead from the collapse of the shelter. The way he held himself told her that his arm had been injured and that it still bothered him.  
“Very well,” he muttered, standing aside to allow Poe, his shirt open and face flushed, to stride past down the ramp.  
She smiled at Poe, to indicate that she was glad to have him with her. Yet it should have been Finn, she recognised; Finn with his inside knowledge of the First Order and his devotion to her. 

The last items to be taken aboard were personal ones. Rey lugged two tin boxes and shouldered a hefty canvas duffel bag which was half her size and seemingly all her weight. She brought her own set of tools to complement Chewie’s; Davv had slipped her a few of the newly confiscated First Order ones.  
Poe dragged his battered bulging pack along before leaving to climb into his x-wing with an exuberant BB-8. Chewie was in the cockpit, flicking switches and testing systems. Every now and again an alarm would blare or a bank of lights would glow.  
Beyanga fussed about, getting in the way, perplexed at the Falcon’s layout. Rey eyed him. He limped and she was sure that was her doing. He nodded at her a few times but didn’t speak to her. 

Rey dragged her loads to the more spacious captains’ quarters while Targen and Beyanga attempted to make themselves comfortable in one of the cramped crew bunk rooms.  
She took one item from her bag. Seated cross legged on the worn padded mattress she pressed Ben’s shirt to her face. She imagined him there with her, his long legs folded up, ducking to avoid bumping his head on the low overhead panel.  
She would sit in his lap as she’d done on Exegol. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of his shirt. She recollected holding his face, feeling his smile with her fingers. She recalled his self satisfied sneer while interrogating her, his lip curl on their first Force bond when he was startled and curious; she saw his sad watery smile on Kef Bir when he admitted he couldn’t come home. But in her arms on Exegol, embracing her at last, he had smiled. She had never seen him look so handsome, had never imagined him to look so happy. Because, she realised, that there in her arms, Ben Solo was home.  
“And this was your home, too,” she whispered to herself, running her hand over the side of the bunk.

One time early on in their occupation of Arjan Kloss Leia had disclosed to Rey that the Solos had taken many trips in the Falcon as a family. According to Leia her toddler son had adored the Falcon, eagerly watching his father and Chewie make repairs, keen to sneak off and explore on his own. “At night he usually preferred to be in the crew bunks with Chewie,” she had told Rey. “Though we had to strap him in as he was really too small.”  
Rey had laughed at this, wondering if Leia still kept holos of baby Ben. But Leia’s face had turned grave and Rey had ceased smiling.  
“But sometimes he had nightmares,” Leia added slowly. “He’d scream, he’d even wet the bed ...” Leia had stopped, looking fragile and close to tears. “Han would fetch Ben and place him in the middle of us. He’d spread out like a little star, taking up so much room. Then he’d keep us awake babbling about the lights on the panels.”  
Rey had wanted her to continue, to feed her more stories of young Ben. But Leia had sighed and wiped her eyes. She had slowly and heavily risen from the tree log which served as her seat and told Rey to try out the newly built training course.

Though it was early Ben washed and changed and filled the hut with noise. The clatter of pots, the whoosh of the fire as he added a couple of logs, the hiss of the brush on the floor; all covered the echoes of that ghastly voice. He herded his avian buddies outside with the brush, their displeased chorus of caws of adding another layer of noise.  
“My boy.” The words turned into chilly shudders inside him. He moved nearer to the fire and concentrated solely on the name Rey, singing it softly as he swept.  
“Rey, Rey, my love, Rey, Rey, my love. I am your boy, yours and yours alone.” One of his carers was methodically folding laundry and accompanied him with her squeaky whistling. 

The leader waddled in a while later. Her name sounded to him like Alcida-Auka. She was concerned about him still sleeping in the laundry hut but he tried to say that liked it in there. He signalled that he enjoyed being by the fire’s perpetual warmth. There was something about the smell of the fresh clothes which also comforted him but he couldn’t articulate that. He didn’t fancy moving to another hut on the edge of the cove, nor did he want to make his home in one of the bitter stone huts on the other side of the island.  
“I need to know about Rey,” he admitted. He had tried to bear down her location, his last memory of her. “You know, the girl with the buns?” He motioned to his head, to his own tangled bun of hair, held up three fingers. “She’s alive. She came to life in my arms, but I heard her cry out in fear. I’m scared she’s in danger.”  
Alcida stared at him, her head to one side, her arms folded across her apron.  
“Reychoo?” he begged.  
Alcida’s beady eyes flashed with anger and her tone was shrill. “Oocha, nagay Reychoo. Ach! Agga Reyfaa!”  
“You don’t like Rey?” he confirmed.  
“Halla,” she croaked, nodding and jabbing her finger at him. “Abree halla.”  
“What did she do?”  
Alcida released a furious burst of sounds and jabbed her finger at him. He couldn’t begin to make sense of it, too many croaks and clicks running rapidly together.  
“But where did she go?”  
She motioned for him to follow her outside. She made more sounds and he recognised some of them. She pointed to the sky, swooping her hands up.  
“A boat? She left in a boat?”  
“Halla!”  
“In a big boat in the sky?” He laughed. “Oocha! That’s ridiculous!” he scoffed.

He was still shaking his head and chuckling at this thought as he strolled down to the harbour. He rested on a low wall, tilting his head back to catch the weak warmth seeping through the clouds. He rubbed at the hair on his chin and cheeks. The tiny boat he had attempted to commandeer was rocking gently in its mooring.  
Loud cries made him turn around. His three avian companions were hopping steadily towards him down the stone path. By the wall the birds flapped and jumped, and he lifted them up beside him, Girl on one side and Speckles on the other. The third one gazed up at him. It sported larger patches of ginger on its head and was not as small as Girl but slimmer than Speckles. He had noticed that it was tenacious and scrappy, with its nicked wing and an annoyed frown like it had just sat on a stick. He smiled and lifted it up. “You remind me of someone, little Red,” he cooed to it as it writhed in his hands.  
He wriggled his toes in his felt boots and stretched. The sea was a calm grey expanse. He mused over the big boat in the sky and concluded that he must have misunderstood the hand signals. 

He scratched the birds, one hand large enough to caress Girl and Red and the other to accommodate Speckles. They purred and wriggled and Girl nibbled at his fingers with her tiny spiky teeth.  
“Hey, gentle now,” he chided, tapping her on her neat pink nose. “I’m thinking that you were the one who bit my butt that time, huh? When I was frozen and naked and defenceless?”  
He stared out at the shimmering horizon, asking himself why he had arrived on the island alone and shivering and with no memory. He imagined Rey and his mother worrying about him, or even worse, thinking that he was dead, that Rey would be grieving for her Ben and his mother for her Little Starfighter. A buzz of panic shook him from toes to scalp. 

He stopped petting the birds and wiped his hands on his trousers. He suddenly felt tearful again, lost. He realised that this was probably his life now, stuck on the island. Rey would remain a fragmented memory and his love for her would eventually be eroded by the salty breeze.  
He considered the man who had been here and whether he had washed up here like him to live out his days, dying on the island. He decided that tomorrow he would demand to be let into the hut with the metal door. He stretched and smoothed his hair back and rose from the wall. Today he had chores to complete and a toilet to plan.

Rey punched the button to display the first set of navigational plans. The Falcon’s cockpit was aglow with lights and its engines thrummed. With her hands on the control yoke and her feet on the pedals she nodded to Chewie. “I’m ready,” she uttered and in a few exhilarating moments they were airborne.  
Targen was seated behind her, Beyanga to the rear of Chewie, but Rey kept her eyes forward, her body relaxed to response to the Falcon’s movements. She glanced to her right to check on Chewie and her heart swelled with love for the great Wookie. But she wished that Han was there. She wished that she could tell him that she never dreamed that she would have fallen in love with his son. But most of all she wanted to tell him how his son had been a cocky, brave, blaster-toting Solo.

“Ex-First Order and ex-Resistance,” Targen’s dry voice startled her and she realised that she needed to check the fuel lines were all working instead of daydreaming about Ben. She craned her head to view a bank of panels; the lights were all on.  
“In the notorious Millennium Falcon. Quite remarkable,” he commented.  
Beyanga replied in his high nervous tone, “And travelling to the Unknown Regions as well. I have heard plenty about the ships and probes lost, about weird creatures in the void.”  
Rey turned to him just as Chewie let out a disagreeable moan. “We all have,” she told him, as the Falcon levelled out nicely. “But I have done this journey a few times now and in different ships. As long as the navicharts are still current we should make it.”  
Though she relished the pale look of fear on Beyanga’s round face, dread nipped at her stomach. The multiple hyperspace jumps were the most risky; ill-timing would result in getting lost or worse.  
Chewie patched Poe through and they confirmed that they were ready to make the first jump. Everyone smiled with relief when the Falcon’s hyperdrive smoothly sent them streaking into hyperspace. Chewie punched the air and roared which made Beyanga topple from his seat.

With all systems appearing stable, Rey grabbed a nap in what she now referred to as the Solo Family Bunk. She curled up under her blankets and wished she could make love with Ben in it, the judder of the engines adding to their sensual movements.  
The quarters had a neat organised kitchenette and she imagined making simple meals for them as Ben snoozed. She pictured him with a baby tucked next to him. She fought back tears, knowing that she couldn’t dwell on that, not now, not when she required all her energy to get them safely to Ahch-To. 

But here Ben filled her thoughts more than ever. She dropped into a shallow erotic sleep, dreaming of him gleaming and shirtless, his high trousers unfastened, revealing a stripe of dark hair. She woke up groggy, but with desire warming her between her legs. She twisted onto her back, her hand on herself, stroking, fastening on to the dream. She softly moaned her appreciation of his sculpted bulk and that hair leading from his navel to a tangled mass in his groin. She sent her thoughts skittering out like probes, seeking that strange sensation. She craved a vivid erotic vision like the one she’d enjoyed in the forest. She pushed harder, her hand massaging her sweet swelling spot, but the only thing she saw was Kylo. He skulked in the shadows before looming over a terrified woman, pulling her legs apart, the light glinting off his mask. 

The next morning he set out early, intending to see if he could access the man’s hut. He’d found a short stick which he hoped would lever open the metal door. Under the rigorous supervision of Alcida, the carers were busy salting fish and making nets in the cove.  
But as he turned to go down the hill to the stone huts, Red squawked and flew up the steps. There was no mist that day and he could see the ground above levelled out. He strode up the steps after the hopping bird, Speckles and Girl flapping behind him.  
He was astonished to find a large blackened object. Red cawed and jumped around it and the other birds poked about the edges. He peered at the burnt remains, his heart pounding more than it should have even after a climb up the steps. 

He recognised the shape of it. “It was mine,” he whispered shakily. “It was my ... boat.” 

He dropped to the ground, trembling. He couldn’t make sense of the incinerated remains and waking up in the cave. He hadn’t been burned as it had been, he reasoned, and the curious boat was far away from the cave.  
The fastidious carers had tried to tidy it up somewhat and the bright new grass already growing beneath told him it hadn’t been here long. Anger stung him as he wondered why they hadn’t told him about it, or at least shown him. He sat for a long while in front of it until he grew chilly and his head ached.

He started down the hill to return to the cove. The charred twisted object made him uneasy and he longed for his fire, a hot bath and his blankets. He scooped up Red and Girl and settled them into their basket. Speckles was energetic, hopping in the grass along the cliff edge. A few moments later the bird startled him with a flurry of screeching and thrashing. He dashed over to see Speckles fussing over another bird who was nesting in a black round object. He gaped at it, at the burn marks, at the glinting silver metal lines, the vivid red cracks. Then it hit him like a punch to the face. This was also his. He shooed away the noisy Speckles and lifted out the mother bird and her cheeping babies, laying them in a grassy hollow. He picked up and turned the thing over in his hands, the uneasiness from seeing his boat now lodged as a lump in his chest. He thought it was a bowl but it was too large, too uneven. He realised that this monstrous thing went on the head. He had worn it.

Carrying it away from his body in one hand he took it to the grassy saddle. He sat with it in his lap, tracing the red fissures with his finger. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The wind blew around him and he heaved at its energy. Breathing harder, he heard voices in his mind. “Creature in a mask,” Rey taunted, “you’re a monster.”  
He was panting but resisted shying away. He used the energy to face his fear, to grab at the welter of memories tumbling around him. The hefty weight of putting it on, the metallic rasp of his breathing and his voice, the dark heat, the desire to bury himself within it, his tears drying in sticky streaks inside it. The click and hiss when he had removed it for Rey. The feeling of wanted to be rid of it for her, the relief of being able to show himself to someone.  
He bore down, riding the memories of anger and humiliation. He had been hit with it, he had smashed it to smoking splinters, and he had watched it being carefully re-forged. He pulled back, choking, the wind whipping away his tears. He flung it away from him, watched it bounce in the grass, his face twisted in revulsion. Then he staggered to his feet and kicked it off the cliff. 

A few days later he was on a stool outside his hut on vegetable peeling duty. His hair was brushed and tied back with a blue plaited yarn. He was clean shaven, having taken a shaving blade and a wide toothed comb from the man’s belongings. The hut with the metal door had contained many things and he needed to go back and explore them further. The day before Alcida had reluctantly allowed him in after he had smiled and pleaded and offered to add peeling vegetables and scrape fish to his tasks.  
Inside the silent neat hut he had opened a round silver object to reveal a pretty blue stone, ran his hands over cream hooded robes, stiff from washing and slightly stained, and unfolded several scrolls of dense writing which he found hard to decipher. There was a backpack with a net and a stick secured to it which he thought would come in useful.

He had stepped in there looking for clues about the man but was amazed to see his own face in a small mirror. He spent a while examining himself, tilting his head, frowning, lines furrowed between his black eyebrows. He was young as he had suspected, and he was pleased with how his wavy dark hair looked when it was loose over his eyes. He pulled it back from his face and then let it fall to hide his large ears. He smoothed back the top like his carers did to keep it tidy and was satisfied with that style. He smiled, baring wonky teeth. He recognised the angularity of his features, and most of all the slanted deep brown eyes. He knew his mother had the same sad dark eyes. He didn’t know what his mouth and chin were like; he pulled at his messy black beard to discern them with no luck. He hoped they balanced out his large nose.

Later in his hut, armed with the metal blade and soap, he had scraped himself free. He was soothed by the familiarity of the ritual in front of the mirror. When he had finished, his skin stinging and blotchy, he was disappointed to see a full sensitive mouth and a small weak chin. He turned away, envisioning the battered grim metal mask bobbing in the sea. A word burst into his head. Kylo. A deep rush of energy like a black wind shook him and made him cry out, “Kylo.”

As he finished preparing the vegetables in the bright breezy morning he turned the words Kylo and Jedi over, saying them under his breath. Alcida had nodded when he had asked her more about Jedi but his understanding of her language was insufficient to understand little more than that the man had been a Jedi and that he had died. She seemed upset and had waved him away. He was relieved, even more so when she didn’t know what Kylo meant.  
He had discovered small brushes and pots of coloured liquid in another stone hut and he began dabbing small stones and rocks, making swirly patterns. As he finished each one he set them to dry in the sun. He shooed Red away from the vegetable pot, waggling his brush at the little grumpy bird. Girl had trodden in a yellow paint spill and was busy making her own triangular foot patterns on the path. Speckles was scratching in the grass for insects and waggling his dark curved tail excitedly. Ben nodded, content with his morning’s work.

A moment later the sky exploded above them.

He dropped his brush and all three birds squawked. He couldn’t work out where the loud tearing noise was coming from; it surrounded them. He stood up, his heart thumping, scouring the sea and the bright clear horizon. Then the noise was directly overhead and he saw a flat disc, a huge silver thing flying in the air. The roaring noise and the light shining off it exhilarated him before the recognition did.  
He yelled and waved at it. “Rey!” he screamed at the sky. “You’ve come for me! I’m here!” He was jumping up and down, the paints scattered about, the birds crying out in excitement. “I’m going home!” he shrieked, tears of happiness blinding him. Home. That ship said home to him like it was lit up in lights on its flat underside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must thank my beloved friend Michelle for the idea of Ben finding his mask on Ahch-To! :-) We discussed it washing up there but decided it would have been in the TIE which Rey stole on Kef Bir.  
> I've taken some liberties with the Falcon's layout especially the crew quarters. The plans I found online vary so I made a mashup of them. I will buy the Haynes Guide to the Falcon as I have rather fallen in love with it recently.  
> Hope you like this one and wow, next time Rey will be setting foot on the island!


	15. Pulse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey arrives on Ahch-To with Poe, BB-8, Targen, Beyanga and Chewie. She immediately feels overwhelmed by the Force and by a familiar pulsing signature. She takes Poe to the Jedi village and reveals what has been making her seem so sad.  
> Ben's carers sense the danger he is in and they hide him and his three porg friends.  
> The next day, Targen, Beyanga with Poe and Rey start sweeping the island with their tracker, looking for Kylo Ren.

Chapter 15 - Pulse

“Ready to emerge from hyperspace on my mark,” Rey spoke into her headset then nodded at Chewie.  
“Copy that, Falcon,” Poe’s reply echoed around the cockpit. “Right on your tail. BB-8, standby, buddy. We don’t want it as tight as the last one.”  
Targen huffed with disgust behind Rey. “Tight? We almost exploded on those asteroids.”  
Rey tutted at him as she clutched the control yoke, her feet ready to hit the pedals to correct the yaw when the Falcon shifted into normal flight. It was that oversight coupled with the unforeseen obstacles which had almost shattered them into a million tiny sparks. Poe’s x-wing had plunged into a spiral, and for one petrifying moment she had thought him gone.  
“Mark!” Rey yelled and braced for the exit. 

She grinned at Chewie and high-fived his giant paw when the blue-swirled beauty of Ahch-To appeared perfectly centred in front of them.  
“All systems fine. Destination ahead. Copy, Commander Dameron?”  
“Yes, Captain Rey,” he laughed. “Great job.”  
Chewie wailed.  
“And you too, Chewie,” he added, and they heard an ebullient babble of beeps from BB-8.  
The Falcon swooped into the planet’s atmosphere as smoothly as a lightsaber cutting through trees. Targen and Beyanga craned forward to view its shimmering watery expanse dotted with green jagged islands.  
“Quite beautiful,” Targen murmured.  
Rey smirked but her stomach flipped over with excited trepidation. And something else. The Force. It was formidable here and she felt it oscillate even in the air above the island. She had thought she was ready for it after her experience in the forest, but its potency was like an electric jolt. She shivered. To her it felt like exactly like when she’d touched Ben’s hand through the Force bond, like a stray live wire in an old ship.  
Chewie asked her if she was okay and she swiped away the sweat from her forehead with a shaking hand. “Yes, we’re here now. We’re here,” she said. She didn’t add that something else was here, too, something so strong and sweet that she struggled to breathe.

They cruised in with a whoosh which zipped a foamy line in the dark blue ocean. Rey recognised the huddle of huts around the cove, and in a giddy blur thought that she saw the dark outline of a man, waving. Startled, her hands slipped on the grips so that the Falcon dipped too steeply and Chewie barked at her.  
Targen slid forward and bumped her seat. She ignored his disgruntled muttering and glanced at Chewie. “Did you?” she gasped.  
He growled at her, asking if she was referring to the dip in altitude and that it wasn’t him.  
“Did you what? What?” Targen grumbled.  
Rey punched at the navimap panel. Her hand was still shaking.  
“Nothing,” she said, rubbing hastily at her eyes. “It was nothing. I’m just tired. Let’s get to that coastal shelf. Chewie, prepare engines for landing.”  
But her heart was thumping away like an Ewok drumming at a feast and she wished she could bank back round to see if her eyes were fooling her or not.

Rey emerged from the ship and walked shakily down the Falcon’s metal ramp. The crashing of the waves roared in her ears and the spattering of spray on her face was as salty and fresh as in her memories and visions. Her chest tightened and she puffed fast shallow breaths.  
Poe jogged towards her, his ship docked neatly by the Falcon, but both he and it looked battered.  
He gathered her into an awkward sweaty hug and her feet left the ground.  
“Are you okay?” she inquired as he gently lowered her to her feet.  
“Yeah, I will be,” he replied. BB-8 rolled across to them, trilling so loudly Rey thought his head would pop off.  
“But are you okay, Rey? You look ... you look like ...” Poe asked her before trailing off.  
She nodded. She knew she looked shaken and disorientated. “I have a feeling,” she admitted softly, wiping the spray from her face. “Poe, did you see anything? When we flew over the island?”  
“Like what, Rey?”  
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. She brushed at her damp clothes, shivered. “It’s nothing. It was the journey. It was more difficult than before.”  
Poe laughed and hugged himself against the chill. BB-8 rolled up the Falcon’s ramp to greet Targen and Beyanga. 

“How did we survive that asteroid cluster?” Poe asked Rey. They both surveyed the Falcon as it ticked and hissed above them.  
Rey shrugged and held up her hands. “Who knows? I think it was a bit of me using the Force in sheer panic, Chewie’s quick reactions on the engines and you being you.”  
“Me being me, absolutely,” he agreed. “My arms still hurt from fighting to clear that roll. I feel like Chewie tried to wrench them from their sockets.”  
Rey flashed him an amused eyebrow raise before turning serious. “The maps need updating,” she instructed. “That area should have been clear. I hope those rocks don’t shift too much before any of us leaves here.”  
“I’ll ask BB-8 to work on new coordinates and to add on some tolerances,” Poe told her, watching Targen and Beyanga walk slowly round the rock shelf, shielding their faces from the sea spray and trying not to slip.  
“This place,” uttered Poe, “it has a feeling, doesn’t it? Already, even for me. It’s so ...vibrant, so loud and ... so bloody cold.”

Rey smiled in agreement. The flow of energy in and around the island was humming with her heartbeat, but beneath the throb of the ocean was the deep pulse which was exactly like when Ben had been near. She turned her face away from the water and shook her head, laughing softly at her ridiculous idea. She saw that flash of a man at the cove and trembled, wrapping her arms around herself.  
She thought of Ben’s voice, “I’ll always be with you” and she decided that this promise was more powerful on the island. While she gazed out at the showering waves she realised that she was in the exact spot where they had shared a Force bond. The time when she’d called Kylo a monster and he’d surprised her by agreeing with her. The soft misery in his face and voice was another surprise.  
“This place is very strong with the Force,” she said to Poe. “I’d forgotten how strong. It’s quite overwhelming.”  
“Go inside,” Poe told her. “You look pale and chilled. Get a change of clothes and a hot tea. Just rest up while I organise the unloading.”

“Rey!” he yelped before another small ship appeared. This one triggered a convulsion in him so powerful he almost vomited. X-wing. The word burst into his mind along with sounds and flashes and the memory of him in a ship of his own, hunting them, destroying them. The ships vanished in an instant over the bulky shoulder of the island. The rage he had remembered surged over him in clammy waves and he dashed up the steps to his hut, retching and coughing.  
Two of the carers bundled in after him, shrieking and shoving at him. The birds were flapping and squawking at his feet, in danger of being trampled.  
“Reyfaa!” the carers cawed and then repeated another word even louder, “Aggfaa!”  
“Danger? I don’t understand!” he shouted at them, as they gathered his bedding and accessories and dragged them out of the door. “It’s Rey! It’s my lover! There’s no danger!”  
“Aggfaa!” they screeched as they prodded him out of the hut. Yet he knew from the sight of the second ship that they spoke the truth. He followed them a short distance past his partly constructed new toilet to the large wooden hut where food was prepared and dishes washed. 

They led him to a small scuffed hatch in the floor. He didn’t relish the idea of going underground, but he eased himself down into the dark cool cellar below, clumsily shuffling down the wooden steps on his backside. His bed roll and blankets were handed down to him, together with his canvas bag of grooming items and several candles. The three birds hopped down merrily like they were embarking on an exciting fishing trip. Red looked less grumpy than usual and Girl was filling the space with her squeaky cries.  
“Will I be safe in here?” he asked as Alcida fussed around shoving sacks of grain and crates of vegetables aside to make a suitable space for his bed. Speckles was already on the pile of blankets, tamping them down with his yellow feet.  
“Halla,” Alcida crowed, nodding and rubbing her grey hands on her apron.  
“Okay, I trust you,” he conceded as he stooped under the low ceiling. “It doesn’t make any sense, but I trust you.”

Rey had forgotten how exquisite the onset of twilight was on the island. The sea calmed and the light turned soft, casting the contours of the land into velvety shadows. The sky was alive with orange and gold ribbons of coruscating clouds. In a pleasingly short space of time a canvas shelter had been erected around the Falcon’s ramp and was withstanding the sharp gusts of wind on the rocky shelf. Poe and Chewie were still working methodically on the speeders, all of which were partly assembled and looking fine.  
Fitting the Starhawk together was a pleasant distraction from the pulses of energy which vibrated through her. Targen and Beyanga were engrossed in setting up the tracking equipment and extra comms links relayed from the Falcon. Though Rey took pleasure at seeing them shivering despite their multiple layers of clothes, both men seemed satisfied with the set up and Targen in particular admired the seascape.

“I’m going up the hill to explore,” Rey announced as she wiped her hands on a rag and peered out at the dusky hillside.  
“You mustn’t go alone,” Targen told her immediately, not even glancing her way.  
She scowled at his back, willing him not to volunteer to accompany her.  
“I’ll go,” offered Poe. “I need a break from this for a while.”  
Chewie growled that he was a lightweight flyboy and roared his Wookie guffaw. Rey smiled at Targen and Beyanga’s pale startled faces and grabbed her jacket from the seat of the Starhawk.

Rey and Poe reached the Jedi village and stood in silence for a while, appreciating the orange shimmery light on the sea, the cool quiet as the approaching night slipped in.  
Poe spoke first, in a low voice, “Rey, this is ... it’s remarkable. I’m not Force sensitive, but the feel of this place, the beauty. Arjan Kloss has some of it, but it’s not as powerful as this.”  
He strolled around the paths between the huts. “I now know why you agreed to come.”  
Rey breathed deeply. “I had strange dreams of it, like it was calling me.”  
“I can believe that Kylo Ren would have come here.”  
“Yes, but ...”  
“Would have, Rey. I believe you when you say he’s dead, that you killed him. Only you could have stopped him. And you did.”  
“Yes, I did,” she murmured, surveying the quiet gloomy clutch of huts.  
She led Poe to the edge of them, a familiar metal door shining in the golden light. “I came here last year to help the Resistance,” she started to explain to Poe. He nodded for her to continue.  
“But I was seeking answers, desperate to discover what this feeling, this energy, was inside me. I found something else entirely.” She reminisced how rudely she was shunned by Master Skywalker, only to turn to his nephew. To confide in him and to fall in love with him. He had been the last hope to stop the war and he had been her last hope of belonging, of having a family.

She sat on the stone bench and sniffed back tears. “I’m still looking for answers, Poe,” she confessed.  
“I thought you’d found some of them,” he answered as he took a seat beside her.  
“Not the ones that matter.”  
“What about Finn? Have you talked to him?” he inquired. “I thought you and him...”  
“No,” she denied and brushed at her face. “We’re just friends. Well, not even that, now.”

“But there is a deep sadness about you, Rey,” Poe went on. “Something you’re not sharing with anyone.”  
Rey dipped her head, squeezing her eyes to stop the tears. “Yes, there is.”  
Poe lightly and quickly touched her knee and then withdrew.  
“Do you want to tell me? Well, me and a few of these pesky birds.” He pointed towards a group of stout porgs who had edged from their nests to investigate the intruders.  
Rey nodded, grateful to the failing light which made the prospect of unburdening easier. She was trembling as she spoke. “There was someone. Once,” she began hesitantly. “He was my soulmate. I didn’t know him very long but I loved him.”  
“What was he like?” Poe asked softly. They were both looking out to sea, to the shifting horizon of silver and gold.  
“He’d been hurt and felt abandoned, but he didn’t abandon me. Not when it mattered. He risked everything for me. He was reckless, I suppose.”  
“Sounds like bravery to me,” Poe remarked. A porg hopped closer to them and he waved it away.  
“Yes, he was brave,” Rey agreed, and she saw Ben taking on his foe armed only with a blaster and a cocky attitude. “He was a fierce fighter, but he was full of love.”  
Poe chuckled. “We could use someone like him. Where is he now?”  
Rey was quiet for a few beats. “He died. He saved my life and he died because of it. I’m here because of him, but it feels so pointless to be here without him.”  
“Oh, Rey, was this on Jakku? I...I don’t know what to say.”  
“You don’t have to say anything. There’s nothing to say.”  
She picked at her trousers, debating whether to continue. Poe waved at the porgs again who were creeping forward and cawing pathetically.

Rey straightened up and spoke again, her voice firmer. “I came round in his arms and he was there looking so beautiful, his eyes shining with relief. And that was,” she gulped, pressing through her embarrassment. She wished she had a cup of that fiery hooch. “That was the first time I kissed him. It sounds strange, but...”  
“No, it doesn’t,” Poe butted in. “Not everyone is such a hot shot flirt like me.”  
“Oh, he certainly wasn’t,” she admitted and smiled. “I kissed him out of gratitude, but if I was only grateful I would have just hugged him. I wanted to show him I loved him, to show him the love I felt pouring from him was reciprocated.”  
She didn’t add that she’d been incredibly turned on by Ben’s full lips. She recalled the warmth of his mouth, his hand caressing her neck. He had been so tender. She could still hear his huffing laugh of satisfaction when they broke apart. She saw his happy smile, his eyes closed in contentment.  
“I wanted to kiss him again, to hold him closer, to kiss his hurts away, but he grew cold. It was so quick. Then he was gone. Just gone.”  
“Rey, that’s terrible. Was this recent? Who was this man?”  
But she was sobbing now and Poe drew her to him with one arm. “No, it doesn’t matter, Rey,” he soothed. “He sounds like a remarkable courageous man.”  
“Yes, he was,” she cried as she leaned into him. “I can never love anyone else. He was everything to me.”  
“Well, I would have liked to have met him.”

Ben attempted to sleep in the cellar, but his body prickled with anxiety. With only one candle he could hear the sense the darkness folding in on him. The Shadow, he shuddered, reaching to pet his bird companions. He remembered being taunted by a handsome silver haired man. The man whose clothes he wore had been angry at him. The deformed man with the cruel milky eyes had beaten him, hissed cruel words into his face. He wondered what he’d done to induce people to harm him. Now his carers hid him away from the ships. More people wanting to hurt him, he supposed, considering the memory of streaking after the x-wings, his desire to obliterate them as wild as the manoeuvres he was pulling in the air. 

He puzzled over his conviction that Rey was aboard the disc-like ship and why she should be associated with the X-wing. He wondered if it was chasing her but there had been no battle noise. It had slipped along behind just as his birds followed him down the slabbed paths. The birds on his bed twitched and cawed softly and he felt Girl’s tiny nips on his fingers. He tapped her head and then settled back in his roll of blankets with a yawn.  
“We’ll just have to wait and hide,” he muttered. “Wait and hide.”  
He closed his eyes and fastened his mind on Rey, on her beautiful face and her strange hairstyle. Slowly, he could feel her, a pulsing shining brilliance sparkling like the sun off the water. Calmness replaced the jittery anxiety and he felt peaceful, just as he had when he had kissed and held her. For the first time since he had arrived on the island he felt whole. He fell asleep with a smile curving his lips.

Rey was working on the Starhawk before dawn the next morning, having endured an unsettled night. She decided that she would rather be doing a useful task rather than twitching and turning in the bunk. The strange pulse was deep inside her, as low and insistent as a low frequency signal. Ben. Ben. Ben. “No,” she whispered as she gathered her hair into scraggy buns and pulled on her clothes, “no, it can’t be. You’re dead.”

By the middle of the day they were ready to set off. The day was bright and the air was dried by chilly gusts of wind. Rey wished she had found her green poncho and made a note to search for it in the stone huts. She waited astride the Starhawk, which despite an overhaul, still rattled and chugged out acrid spumes of smoke. Poe was stood in the front of the battle speeder in his padded jacket and pilot’s helmet with Targen and Beyanga seated behind him, furry hats scrunched down over their ears.  
With radios in place and Chewie and BB-8 providing additional communications in the shelter they hovered up the hill and swooped over the Jedi village. Rey saw two of the Caretakers below and wasn’t surprised when they crowed and hooted and shook their fists at them.

“Friendly locals, huh?” Poe joked over her helmet radio.  
“Yep. It’ll be a tough mission to persuade them to tolerate me, never mind actually like me,” she replied.  
“Tracker is functional,” Targen’s voice buzzed in her ear. “It only detected those two creatures.”  
“It’s freezing up here,” whined Beyanga, “so I propose we head to the main settlement first.”  
“Roger that,” Rey acknowledged. Flipping the visor down on her helmet she banked down along the jagged cliff line, the oily belch of the Starhawk scattering porgs as she went.

The cove looked pretty in the sheen of the early afternoon. It was larger than Rey remembered and contained a substantial number of the Caretakers. Her heart sank when they whistled and gestured angrily at her. It was awkward trying to swoop the Starhawk over the buildings as Poe’s craft hovered stealthily overhead, so she chose a small slope to land on. She watched as the battle speeder cruised overhead and as Targen held the rectangular tracker in front of him. She could hear its rapid beeps over the waves breaking against the harbour walls and the cries of the Caretakers. Beyanga’s nauseous white round face peered over the edge of the speeder.

“Hey!” shouted Poe, deafening her. “Hey! We have something!”  
Rey stiffened astride the Starhawk, her heart bounding into her throat. She fought to breathe. “What?” she managed to ask.  
Above, Targen was waving and pointing down at the large wooden hut in the centre.  
“Down there,” he said. “There’s something strange. It’s a different life form to these creatures and it looks like the size of a man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so relieved to write this chapter and was listening to a lot of old Queen songs. It was fun to have have everyone in the same place for once!  
> Thank you to everyone who makes comments and leaves kudos!  
> Next chapter it will be revealed what happens now the tracker has detected a man-sized shape in the Caretakers' village.


	16. Porgs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Targen, Beyanga, Poe and Rey enter the village to investigate the strange result which the tracker has shown them.  
> Will they find Kylo Ren on Ahch-To?
> 
> Ben has to hide but will he manage to stay safe?
> 
> I can't give too much away for this one!

Chapter 16 - Porgs

“A man?” Rey managed to ask, her mouth suddenly as dry as midday on Jakku. Spots of light dazzled her vision and her head buzzed.  
“Land over here,” she ordered brusquely before tearing off her helmet.  
On the grassy ledge they huddled around the tracking screen. Rey felt so anxious that she was convinced her eyes were tricking her. “It’s not one life form,” she pointed out.  
“No, it’s many,” Targen confirmed, tapping buttons so that the view zoomed in on glowing orange blobs which shifted and bulged.  
“What the hell is that?” Poe asked. “Zoom in closer.”  
“I can’t,” muttered Targen, as he tilted the tracker so they could all examine the small shapes, “that’s its maximum reach at this range.”

Rey experienced a sick burst of relief as she exclaimed, “It’s porgs!”  
“Porgs? Those fat smelly birds?” Beyanga asked.  
“Yes, look! It’s them! I recognise their forms.”  
“You may be right,” Targen mused, “I wonder why they are nestled together like that? Do you know why they would they do that?”  
Ben, Rey thought immediately, and that pulse thrummed deep within her alongside her excited heart. She took several deep breaths, trusting that she didn’t appear as pale as she felt.  
She almost said that she had never before seen porgs in that formation, but a queer feeling rushed at her along with the salty breeze. She remained quiet, clutching her helmet, eyeing the huddle of stone and wooden huts down the slope below them.  
Beyanga’s high voice was thinned out by the crash of the waves and the tear of the wind, “It looks like they are concentrated in just one place down there. Somewhere in that settlement.”  
“Correct,” Targen confirmed as he clicked more buttons, “I’m trying to get a precise location on them now.”  
Rey debated delivering a little mind nudge to Targen, but decided it was too risky. She sensed that he possessed a strong agile mind and now was not the time to start testing if she could influence him. Beyanga was more pliable but he wasn’t in charge.

“It’s the island Caretakers,” Rey explained instead as they surveyed the huts. “They kept some porgs for eggs. I remember them bringing eggs to Master Skywalker. They were a treat for him.”  
“So, a farm of porgs?” Poe wondered aloud.  
“Most likely,” Rey agreed, attempting to sound not at all eager to deflect them away from the area. She didn’t even know why; only that pulse was humming more vigorously and it was warning her to move them away from there.  
“Even so,” Targen declared, as he looked from the tracker then to the village. Rey was alarmed to see that he had a determined smile on his face. “We must check it out in person.”

Up close, the Caretakers were as ugly and mean and hostile as Rey remembered them. Four of them blocked the lumpy stone path into the village, waving sticks and long-handled forks and screeching loudly.  
Targen towered over them. Rey sensed his formidable force of will and she guessed that the fishy-faced nuns did too. They shrank back even before he slid his blaster from its leg holster.  
“We are here on behalf of the Galactic Alliance,” he announced as he stepped forward. “We do not want to hurt you, but we have a mission to accomplish.”  
“So move!” shrieked Beyanga, his blaster now aimed at them. “Or you will be shot.”

Poe groaned and Rey flinched. The Caretakers’ wide mouths fell open and their small eyes grew larger with fright.  
“Hey!” Rey shouted at Targen. “There’s no need for that! Put those weapons away. Now!”  
Targen and Beyanga remained still, clutching their blasters, glowering at the Caretakers. One of the creatures jabbed her stick defiantly at Targen’s leg.  
“Is this the way of the Galactic Alliance?” Rey rounded on Targen angrily. “Threatening others? You are no longer in the First Order!”  
Poe shoved his way to the front, positioning himself between the blasters and the Caretakers. “She’s right,” he agreed firmly. “This is no way to carry out a mission. We’re not going to hurt these folk, especially not over a bunch of porgs.”  
He turned to the Caretakers with his empty hands held out. “We just want to look around, that’s all.”  
They muttered and glared.  
“With no weapons drawn,” Rey added, adding her own baleful glare at Targen and Beyanga until she saw them slowly stow their blasters away. As her hands clenched and her legs trembled she realised her body had been preparing to draw on the Force to intervene. 

But Poe bent down to the Caretakers’ level, his voice gentle. “Please show us inside your buildings,” he requested, smiling and nodding. “We won’t hurt anyone.”  
“Oocha! Oocha hommi nagay!”  
“I know it’s hard. We’re strangers. We came here uninvited. We’re looking for some ... something,” Poe explained softly. “Please help us.”  
The leader, audacious in her white cap and with her feet splayed out on the path, pointed at Rey with her fork. “Reyfaa! Reyfaa! Agga Reyfaa!”  
Poe laughed almost as raucously as Chewie. “Oh, you remember her, then?”  
“Halla!” a whistle and hoots from her companions.  
“I’m afraid they do,” Rey murmured.  
“So it’s you that they object to!” Targen snarled. “Perhaps you’d better stay behind, Rey.”

“It’s true,” she conceded, “I seemed to annoy them.” She bent to the sullen Caretaker. “I never hurt you. I’m sorry I shot a hole in your hut, I’m sorry I damaged things, but I never intended to.”  
“I didn’t intend harm,” she hissed at Targen and Beyanga. “I didn’t point my blaster at them and threaten to shoot them!”  
The leader regarded Rey with her head to one side. She then prodded Poe and made a series of whistles and grunts.  
Poe nodded. “Yes, she’s with me. And she’s alright. Look.”  
Rey was placing her blaster and her lightsaber on a low jumble of stones which served as a wall. “No one will hurt you,” she said gently. “We will leave all our weapons here.”  
“What?” Targen snapped.  
“Give them our weapons,” Rey told him. “If you want to access the village this is what we need to do. So you will do it.”  
The leader stared at the lightsaber and then at Rey. Rey nodded and an odd ripple of understanding passed between them. Rey wanted to say something to the leader but Poe was gabbling and unbuckling his rifle strap to surrender it. Reluctantly, the ex-First Order officers laid their black metal blasters on the wall. Rey and Poe left their helmets beside the pile. Targen and Beyanga kept on their furry hats. One of the nuns motioned that she would guard the stash and the other three beckoned them forward.

“They are here. Under this floor,” Targen confirmed as the tracker bleeped loudly in the hut above the sounds of the fire snapping and pans rattling.  
“Rey, are you okay?” Poe asked as she reached out to steady herself against a chair.  
“I’m ... I’m just tired,” she answered. The pulse was shuddering beneath her feet and it overwhelmed her. It was so like Ben’s Force signature, just like when he appeared on Exegol, a thrilling spectra of light and love. She had seen a tall man waving, she was certain of it. Yet it was impossible that he was here. She wiped her face and smoothed back wisps of hair. Her internal surveillance systems had indicated that he was dead.  
“It’s the Force, it’s still so strong,” she gasped. “I’m not used to it.”  
Targen shot her an unsympathetic look and then watched as the Caretakers fussed around a hatch in the floor.  
“It’s a food store,” Poe relayed as the grey leader allowed him to descend into the gloom below. 

Targen followed, folding his long thin body into the square hole, the tracker tucked inside his belt, its blips growing more rapid. Beyanga said that he was content to stay above ground and inspect the hut but Rey couldn’t resist, and despite her body trembling, she inched down the wooden ladder.  
The pressure in the cellar was immense, like being underwater rather than underground, and she could scarcely hear Poe and Targen as they followed the Caretaker leader with her small candle to the stone wall just ahead.  
It was Ben. Rey knew it. He had been here, he WAS here. She could even smell him. She squinted around in the dim light at the sagging sacks and rough crates for anything to show her that her senses were right. There was nothing. 

“They are behind here,” Targen reported, the tracker’s bleeps now almost a continuous note. “Funny place to keep birds.”  
The Caretaker honked at him.  
“There’s a door. That’s why,” Poe remarked.  
Rey was breathing hard as white lines streaked across her vision. She felt stabs of fear and desire and she had never felt such a mixture before, not even when faced with Kylo Ren twirling his lightsaber. She had never felt such distress and pleasure even when she had teamed up with Ben to face her grandfather.  
“Open it, please,” Poe asked the leader. 

“Ugh, what a smell!” Targen gasped, recoiling with his hand over his nose and mouth. It took all of Rey’s strength to walk to the small low door in the wall. The Caretaker nodded at her and gave her a curious wink. Rey frowned but the creature quickly turned away.  
“Is it them?” Rey asked, her voice a raspy whisper.  
“Indeed it is,” Targen noted sourly, “a big pile of those strange fat birds. I can’t ... they stink.”  
Rey peered into the gloom. The cold blue beam of Poe’s torch revealed a pile of squirming brown and cream bodies. But her own body registered that pulse so powerfully that she had to clutch at the damp wall. She felt tears swell, along with a bilious wave of despair and relief.  
“It’s just porgs,” she panted and grimaced at the fetid odour, “just a heap of little porgs.” 

Back above the cellar they dusted themselves down and breathed deeply. “There was a tunnel, probably leading to the sea,” Poe explained to Beyanga. “The birds were all crowded at the top, maybe for warmth or for shelter.”  
“So it wasn’t Kylo Ren, or any other man?” Beyanga asked.  
“No, it wasn’t Kylo Ren,” Targen confirmed grimly as he switched off the tracker. “Unless he could turn himself into a stinking pile of birds. It was disgusting.”  
Poe grinned, “Yes, it was pure fish with a fetching dash of rotten eggs.”  
Targen huffed and strode to the door. “It’ll take me a long while to forget that stench. Let’s get out of here.”

Rey lingered for a moment. In the hut the Caretakers busily tended to pots, adding vegetables, stirring. Rey watched incredulously as the leader stalked across to her and held out a small bowl. It contained hot sweet liquid.  
“Oh, thank you,” Rey said, as she wrapped her hands gladly around it.  
“Halla, Reyfaa, amoo fallacha Benchoo.”  
“What?” Rey exclaimed, spilling half of the steaming drink. “Benchoo?”  
The Caretaker’s mouth widened with pleasure. The expression was surprisingly sweet.  
“He’s here, isn’t he?” Rey whispered, aware that the others were outside muttering and stamping their feet. “Ben? You just said Ben?”  
“Halla, mut Reyfaa aggfaa,” she replied.  
“Where is he?” Rey insisted. “Tell me,” she asked as tears blurred her vision. “Please.”  
But the Caretaker simply nodded and patted Rey’s hand with her cool chubby one. 

Underneath the twitching warm bodies he lay on his side as still as he could. The birds were almost suffocating him with their rank oily heat; he found a tiny gap near the soft dirt floor of the tunnel to suck at air. He was sure that Speckles, who was tucked against his chest, was in a particularly flatulent mood. He thought that there was a chance he might die from the stink rather than from the lack of air.  
A short while earlier, one of the carers had rushed him out of his bed and helped him to squeeze him through the small door. There he had lain with his three avian companions cheeping and flapping. A few moments later he heard more squawks and the slap of little feet above the boom of the waves. A huge flock of the birds were pouring in down the tunnel from the shore. He knew that they were hiding him, protecting him once again. 

He heard voices far away, intrigued by picking up other human voices. At first there were only deep men’s voices. He listened as best as he could with the birds pressed tight around his head. He knew Rey was close. He felt her bright presence, but it was shuddering. He felt fear too, especially when he heard the thud of feet growing closer. The mens’ voices, the distinctive hoot of Alcida filled the cellar where he’d been sleeping not long ago.  
Then he heard Rey asking “Is it them?” Her sweet clear voice brought him such joy that he almost cried out to her. She was so close. His mind was filled with her shimmering light, her heartbeat pounded with his. He squeezed his eyes shut and his held his body tight.  
He was concerned that the butt biter would strike him then, forcing him to cry out, but there was only their soft wriggling bodies and the odd scratch of a tiny claw.  
“It’s just porgs,” he heard Rey gasp in despair, “just a heap of little porgs.” 

It seemed like an age later when he heard their feet retreat up the ladder. Alcida whistled softly to him that it was safe and she left the door ajar. He gently pushed the little birds off him and took several large breaths as quietly as possible. Cautiously, he inched carefully through the small doorway. His shoulders were the broadest part of him and he had to wriggle and contort to get through. He was encouraged to hurry by several nips on the butt.

Squatting behind boxes in the cellar, he could discern exactly what they were saying.  
“There was a tunnel, probably leading to the sea,” the first man was explaining. “The birds were all crowded at the top, maybe for warmth or for shelter.”  
“So it wasn’t Kylo Ren, or any other man?”  
Kylo Ren. A chill quivered through him. He knew then, crouching in the musty cool cellar, that he was Kylo Ren and that he had done many dreadful deeds. He saw the grim mask he had found, red slashes of light, rows of white clad troopers, whirling through a sky full of stars, cloaked figures, anger, rage and pain. The shadow and the hunger. That rasping voice in his head. Master of the Knights of Ren.  
“No, it wasn’t Kylo Ren. Unless he could turn himself into a stinking pile of birds. It was disgusting.” The man sounded angry and he knew that he was the most dangerous.  
“Yes, it was pure fish with a fetching dash of rotten eggs.” The first man, with a light humour to his tone.  
“It’ll take me a long while to forget that stench. Let’s get out of here.”  
More footsteps, clumping outside. He held his breath, longing to hear Rey again. There was a lighter tread still above. 

“Oh, thank you,” her delicate voice startled him and then made him grin like a fool. Girl was flapping along with him as he crept steadily to the ladder. He reached its foot and looked up. He could see stripes of light glinting through the floor.  
“Halla, Reyfaa, amoo fallacha Benchoo.” He gaped, his heart racing.  
“What? Benchoo?” Rey uttering his name sent sparks of desire up and down his spine. It took all his will power to remain at the foot of the ladder. He felt like he was being tugged towards her.  
“He’s here, isn’t he?” Rey whispered. “Ben? You just said Ben?”  
“Yes, Rey, I’m here,” he moaned softly in response. He longed to burst up there, to yell her name and scoop her into his arms. But he could hear the men still outside.  
“Halla, mut Reyfaa aggfaa,” Alcida replied as if reading his mind.  
“Where is he?” Rey insisted. “Tell me ... please.”  
He peered upwards, towards the thin strips of light, towards Rey. “I’m here, Rey, my love. I’m here and I’m safe,” he whispered. He never thought he could smile and cry at the same time. When Girl scrabbled into his lap he picked her up and kissed her soft little head.

They trudged up the Falcon’s ramp, all glad to escape not only the chilly breeze but the misty rain which had started halfway back from the village. Despite the weather, after a hot meal and drinks Rey was tempted to venture back outside away from the others. She had an urge to return to the village and talk to the Caretakers.  
The offer of the sweet drink encouraged her that she could make amends for her misdeeds when last on Ahch-To. She replayed what the leader had said to her, certain that she had uttered Ben’s name. She had felt him there stronger than she could have envisioned. But the tracker had only sensed what was actually behind that small door, a heap of porgs. She couldn’t deny the First Order technology.  
She resigned herself to the Solo Family Bunk and slipped off her clothes until she was in her vest and knickers. The Force was more powerful here than she had dreamed it could be. She turned over and tucked the covers around her neck. It was disrupting her senses just as a magnetic field interfered with communications and navigation systems.

He had to see her. After a wash and a splendid meal of vegetable stew and bread, he thrashed about in his bed in the cellar fretful and excited. He sneaked out, his newly healed body thrumming deliciously with desire and energy. Taking a small lamp, he made his way across the grass and rapidly up the hill. His three bird friends were not left out of the nocturnal adventure so he dropped Red and Speckles in each pocket while Girl rode in his hood, chattering in his ear.

He knew where they were. The flat rocky shelf on the opposite side of the island. Rey was sending out throbbing waves of light, a signal which he could have followed even in the blackest of nights. There were flickers of blustery silver light from the cloudy moonlit sky so he found he didn’t require extra light.  
He carefully hunched his way down the slope, his heart pounding at the sight of the large disc-like ship. He had been inside that ship many times but the images were jumbled and uneasy. He concentrated on creeping nearer without being seen or falling over.

There was a hump in the land which gave him some shelter from unfriendly eyes but a decent view of the shelf. The ship’s ramp was down and some way from it, where the land rose up to his viewing area, he spotted the flicker of a small fire. Silhouetted against the orange flames he saw her. She was alone, beautiful and bereft, standing as she stared out to sea. Her hair was loose and blowing around her head and he gasped aloud.  
He unloaded the birds. “She called you porgs,” he told them as he placed them on the wet grass in front of him. “I like that name.” He crouched and watched her as she turned and warmed herself in the fire’s heat. 

As he watched her dreamily his mind slipped back to the camp fire he had recalled several times before. He had enjoyed himself; he now remembered singing and laughing and the pretty red-haired girl had told him that he should join in more often.  
“No,” he had replied, feeling shy again.  
“Really,” she had pressed him. “And you should smile more. You look so handsome.”  
“I’m not handsome,” he had answered, feeling the blush of awkwardness even over the warmth of the fire.  
“Oh, you are, Ben,” she had whispered, her face close to his. He had been startled, looking round quickly to see if anyone was watching. Most had drifted away, a couple of others were lying looking up at the stars.  
The girl had leaned and kissed him softly. He had blushed fiercely again, turning his face away, his hair swinging over his eyes.  
“Hey,” she had said gently, “that was nice.”  
“I suppose it was,” he had muttered, and recalled that awful suspicion that it was a joke she was playing on him.  
“No one’s watching,” she had teased him, reaching and smoothing his hair back. He jolted at her tender touch and before he knew it she was kissing him again. He closed his eyes and kissed her back, his mouth opening with hers. It felt nice, she had been right about that. But he didn’t really want it. She pulled him to her, he felt her hot tongue on his lips and he broke away.

“Ben, what is it? Don’t you like me?” she asked, and he winced at the hurt in her voice. He averted his gaze to the dancing flames.  
“Yes, I ... I do,” he had stuttered, desperate not to offend her.  
“I know we shouldn’t really form romantic attachments, but ...” she began.  
“Oh, it’s not that,” he had countered, feeling awful.  
She fidgeted beside him. “You have a sweetheart already?” she had queried in a small voice.  
He’d nodded, his hair flopping over his face.  
“Is that why you spend a lot of time writing those poems? I watch you do that wonderful calligraphy.”  
“Yes, that’s right,” he had confessed, embarrassed that his compositions had been noticed, “but I don’t know when I’ll see her.”

He was thinking of the girl he had seen in dreams. She was stunning with her large determined eyes and brown silky hair. She was strong and supple, with the sensual curves of early womanhood. Glimpses of her honey skin and full wide mouth taunted him most nights.  
“What’s her name?” the red-haired girl asked.  
He had shaken his head and scrambled to his feet. “Please don’t,” he had pleaded with her. He must have sounded louder and more annoyed than he had intended as one of the guys lying down sat up.  
“Ben!” the girl exclaimed as he brushed grass from his trousers.  
“I don’t want to talk anymore,” he had muttered as he turned away.  
“Oh, just leave him!” the guy had burst out. “That didn’t last long. He’s back to being weird and sulky again.”

He knew now as he watched Rey by the fire that it was her he had seen, that he had loved her even when she had been a nameless figure in his dreams. She had been the one to keep the seductive but troubling voice from the dark at bay. But he had surrendered to it because she hadn’t been there for him then. He had needed her, he realised. He had always needed her. He ached to run down to her, to wrap her in his arms, to feel the heat of her body and the heat of the flames. But he knew the immediate danger. For the time being he had to be satisfied to simply watch her, but he vowed that somehow he would never be separated from her again.

Rey relished the soothing heat of the flames. Chewie had been out here and always made a steady fire, but she checked for evidence of his roasting any porgs. The Falcon’s resident porgs had shown little interest in being reacquainted with the island and had waddled back up the ramp as soon as Chewie had deposited them on the rocky shelf. This had been repeated twice that day.  
So she found it was a pleasant surprise when she heard a series of echoing caws. She glanced around quickly then noticed a porg approaching her.  
“Hey,” she greeted it. “Are you one of ours? Finally decided to leave the Falcon, huh?”  
It squawked and hopped up to her.  
Rey examined it, certain that it had emerged from the direction of the slope not the ship. She noted that it was small, with a darker brown head and especially large eyes.  
“Oh, you’re not one of ours, are you?” she asked it in a gentle voice. It trilled squeakily and head butted her leg. “Hey, you’re really tame, aren’t you?” Rey exclaimed and laughed. She bent down and stroked the little bird. It cawed and writhed and she laughed louder. “Where you did you come from, little one?” she asked.  
“Well, you’re not joining our brood. We have enough of you!”  
The porg squawked loudly and nipped at her hand. Rey giggled and patted its head. “Feisty, aren’t you?”  
It regarded her seriously, its little mouth downturned, then it swung round and flew clumsily into the shadows of the slope. Rey watched it as it hopped up the dark grassy bank, hearing its cries. She was aware of the pulse again, throbbing around her. It seemed to be coming from up the slope, echoing around like the porg’s cries had done. She was tempted to follow the porg but soon the shadows swallowed it, leaving her alone again.

He couldn’t stop her. Girl hopped merrily down the slope with a volley of caws which seem to echo round the whole hillside. His heart leapt into his mouth as he watched the little bird appear in the circle of dancing firelight near Rey.  
He watched breathlessly as Rey interacted with Girl, as he heard Rey’s low gentle voice and then her high beautiful laugh.  
At this, his heart was filled with a surge of love so violent that he almost rolled down the hill. He steadied himself, swiping his hair back from his brow. He chuckled as Rey giggled again and then clapped his hand over his mouth. Red and Speckles were entranced as they stood beside him.  
Girl returned to him a short while later, trilling and flapping. He shushed her, cupping her in his hands. “You,” he chided, “what was all that about?”  
She nipped at his hand and he gazed at her. He stroked her head just as Rey had done moments earlier. Girl rubbed her head into his palm and he sobbed with joy. “Thank you,” he breathed, “thank you.”  
He wiped his eyes and peeped down the slope to see if Rey was still there. She had gone but the fire still danced and glowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you so much for all the comments and kudos so far.


	17. Relics part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day on the island and Targen and Beyanga get more than they expected when they explore a couple of burnt relics.  
> Ben is still hiding in the store cellar and is facing his memories of Kylo Ren.

Chapter 17 – Relics part 1

Targen expressed surprise at Rey’s readiness to start early the following day. “The weather changes quickly here,” she explained to him as she revved the Starhawk into an increasingly loud series of shudders and throbs, “so let’s make the most of these warm dry conditions.”  
She didn’t add that she wanted this mission done as soon as possible so she could be left to explore the island in solitude.  
She felt both weary and on edge. She had endured a restless miserable night wrapped in Ben’s shirt, confused that she thought that she smelled his comforting scent in that hut the day before. The pulse remained, as steady as her heartbeat and as painful as the tears which finally arrived with the dawn.

It didn’t take them long to locate the burnt twisted shell of Kylo Ren’s TIE. Rey supposed that she may as well start with that as there wasn’t much else to see. Targen and Beyanga diligently poked around it, frowning and tapping at data pads.  
“It is indeed Ren’s ship,” Targen confirmed with a thin grim smile, “but it can’t tell us who was on board it. The navilog looks like it’s been obliterated. Did you manage to use your technical talents to salvage anything from it, Commander?”  
Beyanga shook his head, clutching a melted mass of wires attached to a warped metal box. “I got a few strings of data from it,” he admitted forlornly, “but it’s nonsense. I could try running it through my computational reader back at the Falcon.”  
Poe kicked at a tuft of grass then shrugged. “You might as well. BB-8 could try it. Sling it in the speeder. Is there anything else to see around here?”  
“No,” Rey told them. She didn’t want to look at the wrecked ship any longer. It was a relic from another life, a life which she desperately wished had turned out differently.

If only she hadn’t taken off alone in Kylo’s TIE, she regretted sourly as she turned away to face the vast grey ocean. If only she had taken Ben with her, or deposited him somewhere safe, like the island. If only, the sea seemed to sigh alongside her.  
She dabbed at tears, keeping her face away from the others. If she had known that Ben was going to die, she would have handed the entire Galaxy over to Palpatine to save him. If it meant her and Ben could have lived peacefully she would have forsaken her mission, forsaken everything but him. “Rey?” Poe called, and she paused to compose her face before she turned to him. War would have found her and Ben eventually. It would have blasted into their lives with more ferocity than Chewbacca when he’d punched in Luke’s metal hut door.

“We’ll press on,” Poe commanded, striding back to the speeder and picking up his helmet. “Rey, we’ll continue north as planned?”  
Rey was about to agree when a fluttering blue object darted around her head. She ducked quickly and waved it away before recognising it. She stared at the bright blue butterfly in wonder. She had never seen such a creature on Ahch-To before. It was joined by a few more, and they whirled around her shoulders in brilliantine flashes. And the pulse danced inside her as she held out her hands and they alighted on her fingers.

They found the ancient tree and Rey was disturbed to see it was as charred and ruined as Kylo’s TIE. She hoped that she hadn’t done that with her crackling dark powers. She felt she had enough to feel guilty about as it was.  
Targen gaped at the tracker, thrilled that it indicated a life force. Rey and Poe watched as he and Beyanga scurried eagerly inside. Rey’s heart pounded and she took in several panicky gulps of air. But several minutes later the ex-First Order officers emerged, chased by a group of squawking furious porgs. One of the birds took to the air to dive bomb Targen, raking his hat from his head with its webbed feet. Rey sniggered into her hand as Poe tried to keep a smile from breaking over his face.

“Damn birds!” Beyanga snapped as he pranced towards them pursued by two petulant hopping porgs. “They keep confounding our equipment!”  
“It’s not just them,” Rey sighed and rolled her eyes and pointed up the hill. “That tree held the old Jedi texts,” she began to explain but no one was listening.  
Targen was scrambling after the bird that had attacked him while Poe smirked at his energetic display of shaking fists and expletives as the porg flew off with his hat.  
“It’s still obviously strong with the Force,” she murmured. “The birds seem to be, too.” She remembered the friendly little one at the fire the night before and shivered. She wished she had followed it, even if it had meant disappearing into the shadows with it.  
“This whole place is alive with it in a way nowhere else is,” she continued, gesturing around her.  
“Well, it’s alive with something!” cried Beyanga as one porg lunged at his boot. Poe was having trouble keeping upright. He covered his mouth with his hand and his eyes were watery with mirth.  
“And that something isn’t very welcoming!” Beyanga screeched as another porg flew up to nip at his butt.  
“Can’t think why,” Rey retorted and then strolled back to the Starhawk without a backward glance.

Kylo Ren. He had been Kylo Ren, a robed warrior, a man with many missions. He had been powerful with the Force. “That was it! The Force! The Force!” he blurted out then slapped a hand over his mouth.  
The Force. He shivered with fearful delight and hugged himself. He had felt it on the hillside that day but realised now that it was everywhere. He gathered his three birds to him and squeezed them. The Force was guarding him, he recognised. Confined to the cellar, ready to fold himself into the sea tunnel should the men return, he was glad he had trusted his carers.

He lay back on his lumpy mattress, sifting through memories, Kylo’s memories. The birds snuggled next to him and he felt less afraid. Kylo had turned to the dark, that deep seductive shadow, the whispering voice, the chill of the cave. He recalled Kylo’s longing for the light, that Rey was his light. She was his beautiful dream girl, a beacon of love and hope and purpose. He winced as he recalled the potency of his twisted desire. He had wanted to kill her or turn her to the dark side. He recollected with a shudder that the darkness demanded that her light could no longer exist.

Yet he had wanted her for himself. He realised that he had fallen in love in his dreams, and the first time he had seen her, in a dank forest, he had been overcome by it. He lay in his bed, the birds trilling quietly, and he took himself back to huge gleaming starships, lonely spartan quarters. Kylo had denied the love, pushed it away. He had eschewed all women, pouring his considerable sexual energy into fighting and training and using his desire to bond himself to the dark.  
He remembered that Rey had not only drawn him with her light, but with her beauty and power as a woman. His hunger for her had been immense, gnawing away at him, bending him double at night as he thrashed in his narrow bed and buried his face in his pillow.

As Ben, on his island home, he still longed for her, but he was relieved it was stripped of that black possessiveness. His love was powerful and pure and sweet and light. He laughed as he felt himself stir. He quickly became stimulated as he fantasised about her body, her small pert breasts accentuated by her wrappings, her shapely butt. He pictured her by the fire the night before, her delightful silhouette, her loose hair.

He replayed the memory of kissing her, the feel of her lips under his, the warmth and softness of her in his arms. He grinned and moved his hand to his crotch. He wasn’t sure about the pure part of his love now. He relaxed and closed his eyes, imagining kissing her deeper, longer, his tongue exploring her mouth, his hands all over her, seeking her bare flesh. He wanted her with him now, under his blankets, curled up smooth and warm and soft against him. He would hold her and love her and dedicate all his energy to her pleasure.

He didn’t know if he had been with Rey or anyone else. The red haired girl was a blank after the incident at the camp fire. He couldn’t remember any sexual encounters, but his body eagerly recalled how to become aroused and knew what it wanted to do. He slid his hand into his pants, touching himself, groaning with pleasure. The image of Rey and the sensation of his hand around his erection melded together and made his stomach clench with lust. He rolled his hips, imagining nudging at her warmth, how much better it would be than his own hand. But his hand would have to do for now.

He tried to be quick and furtive, but the porgs twittered at the movements beneath the blanket and hopped to the end of the bed. He pressed his lips together to stop himself crying out and lay for a while panting and feeling the sweat and stickiness ooze between his thighs. He relished that Rey was on the island now. She was not far. He knew he had to see her again, to drink her in. “Tonight,” he whispered to the shadows before he dozed off. “Tonight. Danger or not.”

"He remembered gazing at her as she stood by the fire, her delightful silhouette, her loose hair .... he would return tonight, danger or not."


	18. Relics part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey, Poe and Targen continue to sweep the island for signs of Kylo Ren - the Jedi village and the dark sea cave. Following a vision in its mirrored walls Rey makes a decision about her future. The crew of the Falcon prepare to leave but Targen finds something which convinces him that Kylo Ren has been on the island.
> 
> Ben readies himself to sneak out to the Falcon to see Rey once more despite the danger. And things will never be the same again.

Chapter 18 - Relics part 2

The fine weather held, though the wind grew stronger as they explored the stone Jedi huts. Two Caretakers were sweeping the pathways, pausing to glower and emit disapproving clucks and squeaks. Rey and Poe made conciliatory gestures as Targen prowled with the tracker and Beyanga attempted to force open doors.  
“Leave those alone,” Rey admonished him. “These are sacred spaces. We have the tracker. We don’t need to intrude inside.”  
Beyanga pouted and gave the metal door of Master Skywalker’s hut a final shove. “There may be clues,” he grumbled, “evidence of Ren.”

Poe persuaded the Caretakers to grant them access to the huts by offering to trundle two barrows of flat stones halfway up the hill to where another crew of Caretakers were refurbishing the steps. To Beyanga’s obvious glee, they started with Skywalker’s. Rey remained outside while the others poked around. She felt intrusive and awkwardly aware of the fish-faced creatures glaring at her. If the leader had been present Rey may have been tempted to inquire discreetly about Ben. She swept the windblown strands of hair away from her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Though the pulse was fainter here it continued to beat along with her heartbeat inside her and the waves below.

“A lot of interesting things in there,” Poe remarked as they emerged, “but no clothes or personal items.”  
Beyanga was behind him, blinking rapidly in the gusty bright air. “They may be in another hut. The man lived a Spartan life, but surely he had more than one set of clothes and he must have possessed a comb.”  
Rey shrugged, irritated by his fastidiousness. “I don’t see what that has to do with finding Kylo Ren. We’d better move on. There is still the cave to explore.”  
“We have to be thorough, Rey,” Targen declared as he cradled the tracker. “There’s another large hut over there.”  
Rey followed his finger, startled when she realised that it was her hut. It had been lumpily rebuilt after Master Skywalker had angrily demolished it at finding her holding Ben’s hand by her fire. She instinctively walked towards it.  
“That was where I stayed,” she told him. 

Her hut was neat but chilly. Poe lit the two chunky candles and Rey grinned at the sight of her green poncho draped from a peg on the wall. The narrow bed was covered with a scanty mattress and two coarse linen sheets Rey noticed that the lovely striped blanket was missing.  
She flinched as the image of Ben, in a blanket, snuggled with those birds, rushed into her mind like a tide. She smothered a gasp, eyes darting around the hut. She was certain that he was on the island; along with her earlier visions there were so many signs and feelings. But they had looked. The tracker had not found him. She slipped the poncho over her head and left the others to their examinations.

“This is an ideal hiding place,” announced Beyanga as they stood outside the dripping slimy entrance to the sea cave. As well as the black gaping mouth she had tumbled into, there was at least one other way in by the ragged shore.  
“It would suit Ren,” Poe commented with a visible shiver, his face pale, “it feels desolate and ... rotten.”  
Rey trembled inside her poncho with the chill. Grey clouds were whirling above them, but she knew that the change in weather wasn’t entirely responsible for the frostiness around them.  
Even Targen appeared daunted by the last of their explorations and it was the rotund Beyanga who slowly led them inside.

A pale bewitching face fierce with dark power, a cloaked Empress with golden eyes and deep red lips; Rey wondered if she would see her Sith self manifested in the mirrored underground walls. “Don’t be afraid of who you are,” Dark Rey had hissed seductively on Kef Bir. As she anxiously scanned the gloomy cave Rey understood that she was still troubled by her darkness just as Kylo had been by his light.  
She faced the shiny wall and saw two shadows bloom out of the dimness, Kylo, tall and caped, and her, his deadly bride, her hand in his. Their bleak cold faces were both terrible and beautiful. Rey’s breath came out in weak icy puffs. She couldn’t hear the others as they shuffled about; only the sound of Kylo’s voice as he pleaded for her to rule with him. Before her the two figures embraced in a union of diabolical desire. Kylo held Dark Rey’s neck in a choke hold as his other hand squeezed her breast. Rey’s throat tightened.

Targen had been right. With their bloodlines and power they would have been unstoppable. Alone in the cave, watching her other self writhe in Kylo’s arms, she truly thought that she had made the wrong choice, chosen the wrong side. She could have been bonded with her lover, and in that dank desperate moment she would have preferred to be wedded to Kylo Ren than to no one. Snoke’s words were true, she was a foolish child.

A few hours later, back in the warmth and comforting shabbiness of the Falcon, Rey sought out the cheerful company of Chewie and BB-8. The ride back from the cave had been cold and long. She had chugged grimly ahead on the Starhawk while Poe had piloted the battle speeder.  
Rey decided that she would leave the island with Poe and the others the next day. She was done with it. She needed to be somewhere completely new. She considered ditching her name and swerving off the Jedi path. She’d heard rumours that the mobile aircraft refuelling station Colossus was being enthusiastically reclaimed from the First Order. She fancied spending time helping to rebuild its engineering capabilities and to revive its once vibrant racing community. She imagined a simple life with a few friends and a stable of refurbished speeder bikes.

Chewie was readying the Falcon for its return journey to Arjan Kloss and she was pleased to that she was looking forward to piloting it back with him. She secretly doubted that Poe could handle the pitfalls of the Unknown Regions as well as she had. She kept quiet about her change of plans, content to pull at wires, flick switches and exchange banter with the chatty BB-8.

Targen called them to help as he was determined to download all the tracker detections to his computer. Beyanga was squinting at screens and prodding at switches.  
“The cave seems to have a substantial tunnel system,” he explained to Rey as she settled on a crate bedside him. “My auto sensor picked up on more chambers.” He pointed to a yellow tangle of lines on the monitor. “Perhaps first thing tomorrow we could return and map it further.”  
“Count me out,” Poe said as he slung equipment out of the speeder. “That place was creepy. And the tracker didn’t sense any life forms at all.”  
“It’s strange that was the one place those annoying birds were scarce,” Targen remarked. “But Poe is right. There was no one there. No signs of occupation. Let’s concentrate on the data we’ve gathered already. I need to compile a report. Commander Dameron, plug this navilog into your droid so we can find anything further about the TIE’s flight from Kef Bir.”

BB-8 was patched in to the warped navilog after Chewie replaced its melted wires.  
“Is that it?” asked Rey as two lines of Aurebesh blinked on Beyanga’s screen. “All it can tell us is that it came from Kef Bir to here?”  
“It doesn’t tell us how many were on board,” Targen complained. “I fear that the data for the pilot is too corrupted.”  
Chewie fetched an old heavy navipanel and made frustrated noises as he attempted to parse the lines of data from BB-8 through it. 

“Still nothing, not even ...” Rey began to comment, holding a rogue wire in place. But her mouth went dry as she suddenly experienced that swooping feeling. She bowed her head, hoping that it would pass, but it only intensified. She let go of the wire and Targen muttered crossly behind her as the screen flickered off. “We should have brought more First Order equipment,” he griped. “This is a heap of garbage.”  
“Rey? What is it?” Poe asked and his hand rested on her shoulder as she gasped and then slumped over.

She couldn’t answer. She was seeing Ben again. He was under the striped blanket she’d been looking for earlier. He was pleasuring himself, his eyes closed, his lips moving and pressing together like he was kissing the air. That full, red mobile mouth filled her mind. He seemed to express a lot of emotion with his mouth. Kylo Ren was attempting to be stoic, but his mask of coldness had been breached by that mouth. His trembling lip was the pleading lonely boy she had glimpsed in their bonds. But now that trembling mouth was showing him to be on the brink of orgasm.

“I need to lie down,” she whispered with effort, bringing her head up. “I don’t feel well.”  
Poe helped her to the bunk and laid the blankets over her. Rey was awash with giddy desire. She reassured Poe that she just needed a nap, and to just leave her. “Please, no water,” she begged as she felt her own arousal seize hold of her.  
At last she could lie alone in the dim quietness and watch Ben. She jammed her hand inside her trousers and came with him, sighing as he did.

She napped and woke up starving. She wiped her armpits and neck and cleaned between her legs. She wondered why she was seeing Ben so vividly like that, in the middle of masturbation. As she washed and changed into a clean tunic and her pale loose trousers, she considered that it was a flashback, some perverse residue of his life force within her. She combed her hair out of its buns, arranging it over her shoulders. The pulse, she realised, was simply his life force within her, an extra heartbeat. 

She reflected that they were his memories, but she hadn’t seen anything else from his past, just these private intimate moments. He was wearing Jedi robes so she wondered if it was from when he was a padawan. Yet his face was older, the face of the Ben she had loved. She smoothed her tunic over her breasts, thinking that the Force may serve up more lewd spectacles, perhaps of him having sex with other women. She winced at the prick of jealousy; saw the cave mirage of him with his hand around her throat. She guessed he had enjoyed women; being Supreme Leader must have had its perks. Surely, she supposed as she left her quarters, all that energy which burned off him had to be vented and not just in conquering the Galaxy. Like his saber it just seemed too intensely hot to be contained.  
When she returned to the crew table the others had prepared food and she heaped it into her dish gratefully. Chewie placed a firm paw on her shoulder and asked her if she needed anything else, adding that she should rest until they left in the morning.  
“I’m okay now, Chewie. I just needed to warm up and have a little sleep,” she reassured him before spooning as much fish stew into her mouth as possible.  
Targen couldn’t hide his disappointment that the navilog yielded no further answers but vowed to have it rescanned back at Arjan Kloss.  
“More equipment has arrived,” Beyanga told them, wiping his chin. “Comms aren’t great from here, but I got enough to know that the engineers are working around the clock to re-assign it.”  
Targen nodded and wiped his dish with a piece of stiff bread. “I’m going to head out for a stroll,” he announced as he manoeuvred himself out from the table. “I do enjoy the light at this time of day. Despite the natives, this island is very alluring.”  
Rey was astounded to see that he was smiling.

But when he returned a while later his face had reset to its usual grim scowl, his deep set eyes narrowed in displeasure.  
“Attacked by porgs again?” Rey smirked as she and Beyanga drank tea, entertained by Poe trying his best to lose to Chewie at Dejarik.  
“You keep saying Kylo Ren’s not here,” Targen barked at her.  
Annoyed, Rey glared back. “That’s because he isn’t. My testimony is backed up by your data.”  
“That may be so,” he sneered. “But I found something while I was out.”  
Rey stared, her heart momentarily stopped.  
From behind his back Targen presented them with a charred black mask crisscrossed with red lines and glinting with silver. 

Poe went to touch it and then withdrew his hand with a disgusted grunt. “Where the hell did you find that?”  
Chewie howled and threw his arms in front of his face as though Targen was armed with a flame thrower.  
“It was washed up on the shore not far from here,” Targen explained. He placed the mask on the holochess table, cutting through the tiny figures.  
“So he was here!” Beyanga proclaimed, his mug trembling halfway to his mouth.  
“Look at it properly,” Rey ordered them. “It’s burned like his TIE fighter.”  
“That mask was Kylo Ren,” Poe said uneasily. “He was rarely seen without it.”  
Chewie moaned loudly.  
“So if that was here, so was he,” Targen agreed.  
“But he’s not! We’ve tracked the island,” Rey argued, patting Chewie’s arm. “And if he was wearing it when it burned, he’d be injured. Oh, what’s the point?” she asked, exasperation making her voice high and thin. “It’s too easy to say that I flew the TIE here, Kylo had left his mask inside it and when I burned the TIE the mask burned with it.”  
“Then how did it leave the TIE?” Beyanga demanded, his voice growing shriller. “How did it get in the sea?”  
“I don’t know!” Rey yelled and Chewie roared and shook his head.  
“Perhaps the ghost of Luke Skywalker was playing with it,” Targen sneered.

“This is ridiculous!” Rey cried out, wanting very much to smash the mask. She hated it. She hated it even more after Kylo had repaired it. It was pathetic.  
“That ugly thing,” Poe wondered aloud, as if reading her mind. “What the kriff did he try to do to it? It was vile enough without those red fissures. Do you know he tortured me? He was wearing that thing and all his black robes and hood and he used his power to hurt me.”  
There was silence except for the buzz and blip of the holochess table.  
Poe continued, his face angry, “The worst thing was, he enjoyed it. You know, Targen, I’m going to be honest now, maybe more honest than any of you. I kind of hope he is alive because I would sure like to see the bastard pay for all the pain he caused.”  
Beyanga made a small noise of surprise then masked it with a sip of tea.  
“He did the same to Rey,” Poe added, staring at her. “He abducted her. He hurt you, didn’t he? Oh, I bet he relished having a pretty young girl strapped into his torture chair. You never said what he did to you, Rey.”

Rey was quiet and then shook her head forlornly, hoping that would stop any further prying. She would never reveal what had occurred on Starkiller Base. She would never disclose that Kylo had leaned close to her, savouring her. He had smirked and flaunted his good looks and beautiful hair. Then she had struck back, the first of their combative encounters.  
She was sad to think that most of their brief time together had been spent fighting with him, buffeted by pain and rage. Yet there had been calm moments. The hand touch was the most tender, when she had been with Ben Solo. As he shed his glove for her he had shed Kylo and she saw Ben reaching out to her. It was Ben in the Supremacy elevator gazing at her, his conflict cleaving the air between them. In the desolation of sleepless nights she often comforted herself that she had given him the strength to kill his master, that he had fought alongside her. But she always wept when she remembered that the only thing Kylo thought he could offer her was power. She closed her eyes. She needed time away. Tomorrow could not arrive quickly enough.

Later, they began dismantling equipment outside the Falcon in the cool gloom, the sea whooshing gently nearby. Targen was still cross about Kylo’s mask and stalked about silently while Beyanga muttered to himself as he unplugged his computational stacks and banks of screens.  
Poe was elbow deep in the battle speeder with Chewie. A couple of their resident porgs were busy pecking at stray wires and nuts, showing no inclination to join their wild friends.  
“You said once that there are still First Order factions,” Poe spoke up. “That they are resisting the formation of the Galactic Alliance?”  
Targen took a few beats to answer. “That is true. Every day we receive intelligence that they are gathering in various places. They are working with mercenaries and crime syndicates. And we have to find Kylo Ren before they find him, or he finds them.”  
“But he’s dead!” Rey exclaimed angrily. She dropped the coils of rope she was folding and pointed at him with both hands. “You were convinced that he was hiding here. Now you know I was telling the truth. That mask was in his ship. He wasn’t wearing it when I killed him. Admit it that I’m right, Targen,” she challenged. “You found everything on Kef Bir but his mask.”  
“It’s not conclusive, Rey,” he countered and turned away. Rey made a disgusted face and picked up her rope, twisting it furiously.

They worked on in an uneasy silence for a while, Chewie moaning at the porgs, BB-8 rolling around bleeping.  
“Are you going to comb the other islands too?” asked Poe. “Because we’re out of here tomorrow. Shame, because if he is on this planet I’d like to be the one to bring him in. You could hire bounty hunters of your own. I know the First Order used them in the past.”  
“Did you personally know Ren?” Rey chipped in, sensing more than ever that Targen was concealing something. “There seems to be more to this manhunt than protecting the new Galactic Alliance.”  
Targen rewarded her with a quick surprised glance before glaring at her with his usual sternness.  
“I never met him,” he answered curtly. “I was posted on the Harbinger, which sometimes served as an escort to the Supremacy.”  
“Snoke’s Boudoir,” smirked Poe, tapping a wrench on his palm. “Ah, the joy of seeing that thing split in half.”  
“Seeing people die,” Targen snapped, “is never joyful.”  
“So says the ex-First Order officer!” Poe scoffed.  
Targen strode towards Poe, glowering. “People died on both sides, all of us killed people,” he stated coldly. “You ask why I hunt Kylo Ren. Now I will be honest with you. I am sick of death and war. I am growing old. I want a peaceful life for me and ... my family.”  
His voice lowered on the last word and he flicked his dark eyes away. 

Poe stiffened, ready to retaliate. She sensed his anger now like a revving speeder engine. Ever since Kylo’s mask had been brought onboard she had felt it. She moved to him and placed a hand on his arm.  
“I think we all want a peaceful life,” she said, squeezing Poe’s arm. “Is your family far away?”  
Poe rolled his eyes and Rey frowned at him. “Poe, not now.”  
He shook his head and shrugged her off. “No, I need to go inside. Buddy, let’s check those loading compartments,” he gestured to BB-8 who spun up the ramp followed by the porgs.  
Targen was silent. Beyanga scrolled through his datapad. “Well, where are your family?” Rey pressed.  
“I don’t talk about my family,” he replied. “Now, like Commander Dameron, I too must make technical assessments inside before we leave tomorrow.”

He crept out of the cellar when he sensed the darkness seep over the island. After a delicious sleep he had woken refreshed and excited. He was ready. His heart drummed steadily and seemed to be echoed by a deeper pulse. He had combed his hair in the lamplight and tied half of it back with the red plaited string. He wished one of his carers could do it, but his ham-fisted attempts had to do. He’d used some water with the soap and scraped away his scraggy whiskers. He would have preferred to change into clean clothes, but wiped around his groin and under his arms and shook out his dark robes. 

Tucking Red and Speckles into his pockets and with Girl riding contentedly in his hood he climbed the slope. In the brown and purple shadows of twilight he glimpsed blue shimmering dots ahead. They seemed to be guiding him and he hastened after them even though he knew there was danger. “But never tell me the odds, huh, guys?” he chuckled to the birds as he strode ever nearer to Rey. 

The blue fluttering lights dispersed as he reached the small vantage point from the night before. He unloaded the birds and tucked them round his knees. “Now, stay here,” he instructed them. “No running off. We’ll watch and see.”  
It was beautiful still cool night but he noticed that there had been activity around the ship. The tarpaulin which had covered one side was gone and rolls of canvas and heaps of poles were laid neatly on the flat rock. Boxes and parts of machines lay the ramp. He felt a sweep of tingling anxiety; they were preparing to leave.

He was glad to see that the fire was lit. He craned his head up nervously to see where Rey was. He longed to see her. He hoped the flames would encourage her outside. He could hear faint voices and metallic chinks and bangs. He waited a while, shifting position, his legs cramping. The birds cheeped impatiently and his trousers grew damp from the ground.  
A few moments later Rey walked down the ramp, carrying a box. Behind her followed a tall shaggy shape. It emerged into the light of the fire and instantly he was filled with delight. “Uncle Chewie!” he gasped aloud, “it’s you!” and he couldn’t stop himself. He stood up.

Behind her Chewie yowled, and she dropped the box in shock. Chewie was howling and pointing up the dark hill.  
“Is someone up there?” she asked, her heart jumping into her throat.  
Chewie was nodding and telling her he had heard a man’s voice. Up on the hill, he added.  
Rey gaped at him. “I think it’s Ben,” she whispered urgently, whipping around to check that they were alone.  
Chewie let out a long howl.  
“Chewie, please be quiet!” she urged him.  
Chewie pointed again at the dark slope but she couldn’t see anyone. “I know it’s impossible, but if it’s anyone it’s him.”  
“I have to go and see,” she told him, and she was shaking. “Stay here and don’t let the others see where I’ve gone. Chewie, please! It’s Ben Solo! Chewie, calm down, it’s okay, Ben saved me. And somehow he’s here .... keep watch.”

She turned to the darkness of the slope and she felt Ben now. Like in the cellar his signature was thrumming in the dim soft air, sending vibrating beats towards her. They crashed through her as though she had flung herself into the sea.  
Trembling and with tears running down her face she started to climb the hill. At each step she pleaded that it was him. That it wasn’t some crazy Force energy the island had manifested to taunt her with or some weird grouping of stinky porgs.  
Then her heart plummeted as if it had been kicked down the hill. Three birds in the gloom, patches of white, dark holes for eyes. She almost fell to her knees in despair and confusion.  
Behind them she finally saw a large shape, a man. 

Ben. 

She couldn’t trust her eyes anymore, but all her instincts and senses told her that it was Ben. Miraculously it was Ben. He was wearing dark grey Jedi robes like a Force Ghost. But he wasn’t glowing. He was as alive as she was.  
He knew the safe thing to do was to run and hide but he couldn’t move. He stood and waited for her. She strode up the slope, and she was staring ahead in horror. Her white clothes gleamed, her hair fell over her shoulders in dark waves. He could hear her sobs and pants growing louder. Then she froze, her eyes huge and locked onto his. Her mouth hung open.  
Then, in a burst of white, she was on him. She rushed at him with such violence that they both tumbled to the ground. She squirmed against him and smothered him with kisses, his cheeks, his chin, his eyes, his nose, his ears, his mouth. She was gasping his name over and over and his skin was wet with her tears and her saliva. He was overcome, bathed with the force of her love and sheer relief. But most of all, for the first time on this island, he felt complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow! It seemed unreal to actually get to write the last few paragraphs out fully. I had sweaty palms! :-)
> 
> Thanks for all your comments and kudos and for sticking with this for so long. Here's to some lovely and dramatic Reylo moments for Ben and Rey!
> 
> The next chapter explores the reunion of Ben and Rey in more detail and Rey's fateful choice the next morning.


	19. Reunion part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Rey are together at long last and relish in kissing and holding each other. But they can't stay together long.  
> Rey must return to the Falcon before the others suspect but even so Targen senses something is out there.

Chapter 19 - Reunion part 1

With effort he pulled Rey down behind the small slope. Her hands raked through his hair and he tried to kiss her back, but she was wriggling and whimpering, and he bumped his nose on hers attempting to catch her mouth with his. Eventually he cupped her face in his large hands and stared into her astonished eyes. His heart brimmed with joy and he knew he was grinning like a fool. He didn’t care, just as he didn’t mind the tears streaking down his face.  
“Rey, Rey, sssh,” he told her. “Keep still, sweetheart.”

She nodded and he leaned in, kissing her square and firm on her delicious mouth. Immediately she parted her lips to him with a sigh and their tongues began lapping together. He groaned and his hands roamed all over her, brushing her neck, sweeping down her arms, rubbing her shoulders before sliding down her back. His body demanded to make sense of her solidity, to map her sensual shape. He cupped her butt and squeezed, dizzily delighted when she pressed into him. His erection swelled painfully at her heat and softness. She fitted in his lap like a bird in a nest, her arms folded tightly around him. His bird companions were cawing and Girl was scrabbling at his leg, trying to jump into his lap too.

“Rey,” he uttered as their mouths drew apart. Her face was tilted up, her eyes closed, her lips wet and swollen. Her exquisite beauty pinched at his heart. She looked up at him, her eyes dark and shining.  
“Ben,” she whispered. She smoothed his hair back from his cheek and her touch sent sweet spasms ricocheting up and down his spine.  
“How?” she gasped. “How did you get here?”  
“I don’t know,” he murmured, his hand brushing her soft hair from her shoulders. He was so tempted to bury his face where her shoulder met her neck. He ached to pin her down and devour her with greedy kisses. He breathed in and drew himself up straighter.  
“I woke up naked in a horrible cave. I had no memory at all,” he told her. “Some of it’s returned, but there’s still so much I don’t remember.”  
“You remember me though?” she inquired. Her fingers toured his hair and his face, but her eyes remained fixed on his.  
“Yes. Yes, I do. But I don’t know your full name. I don’t even know my full name. I’m Ben, that’s all I remember.”  
“You’re Ben Solo,” she told him solemnly. “And I’m just Rey.”  
“Just Rey?” he asked, dipping his head and smiling. “Not Rey Solo?”  
“No,” she answered.  
“Not yet,” he told her. 

His mouth found hers, a warm delight in the cool air, and they pressed together again. She bore her hips down on him, and he jerked involuntarily upwards with a moan.  
Rey stiffened and drew back.  
“Ben, I have to go,” she gasped. “I thought I heard something.”  
He gathered her to him, inhaling her sour musky scent. He nuzzled her cheek as he spoke. “Don’t go, Rey. Please, not yet,” he implored.  
She shook her head. “I can’t stay, Ben. The men down there want to hurt you.”  
He nodded, acknowledging the fear in her eyes.  
“I won’t lose you again,” she told him sternly. “They leave tomorrow, but I’m staying. I must go now, Ben. They may look for me.”

She clambered out of his embrace and he shivered with the chill of the night.  
“Please, go, Ben,” she urged. “They mustn’t see you here.”  
“Rey,” he uttered, staring up at her. It hurt him deep in his core to feel her separate from him.  
“Ben, you must stay safe,” she instructed, crouching beside him. “Promise me.”  
“I promise,” he replied in a low gentle voice. He felt tears spill as he watched her stand and move away, her white clothes gleaming.  
“I love you, Rey,” he whispered as she vanished out of sight. And just as soft, he heard her low voice in the cool stillness, “I know, Ben.” 

Rey’s legs almost gave way as she eased herself down the slope. She was shaking with elation. It was difficult to resist shrieking with joy and throwing herself into the air to perform the somersaults her heart was attempting. She was also soaked with arousal. As she neared the flat stone and the circle of firelight she smoothed down her trousers and tunic. She couldn’t stop smiling. Her head rang with his name and his quiet firm declaration of love. She was tempted to spell out “I love you, Ben Solo” in jagged streaks of Force lightning, illuminating the island with her jubilation.

Chewie stepped towards her, staring. She nodded and he threw back his head and wailed raucously. It sounded to her as though he was as relieved and elated as she was. She didn’t have time to analyse any further as the Wookie gathered her to him and hugged her so hard that she yelped. He picked her up and her feet swung in the air and her face was full of his fur and beneath it she felt he was trembling just like she was. She couldn’t help it; she broke out into hearty laughter.  
“What’s going on?” Targen’s sharp voice sliced into the night. “What’s all the noise about?”  
Rey and Chewie froze as if doused in an errant wave. Chewie was holding Rey up, and the grin was still stretched out on her face as Targen strutted towards them.

“Well?” Targen demanded.  
Chewie lowered Rey to the ground and growled.  
Targen’s thunderous expression made it easy for Rey to sober up. “Just a little Wookie parting ceremony,” she explained, bouncing slightly on her heels. “I don’t know when me and Chewie will see each other again, so we were ...”  
Chewie yowled that they were going to eat fish and drink fire brew and sing songs. Targen tilted his head, his eyes squinting. “You were what?”  
“Having time together,” Rey asserted, glancing up the dark slope. She sensed that Ben was still there. She grinned again. “Isn’t that allowed?”  
Targen made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat and then peered up the slope. “Something’s going on,” he remarked, his voice low. He looked up the slope again. Rey felt Chewie pat her arm in warning.  
“What’s up there?” Targen persisted, and Rey felt her heart swoop into her boots when he pulled out a pair of macrobinoculars.

“Nothing’s up there,” Rey denied, willing herself into nonchalance. Targen’s detective abilities were horribly impressive; she wondered if he was somewhat Force sensitive.  
Targen’s binoculars whirred as he surveyed the slope. “That’s not what these are telling me,” he contested. “I can see a shape. I’m going up there. Chewbacca, fetch Commander Beyanga and tell him to bring the tracker.”


	20. Reunion part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Targen goes to investigate what lies up the hill but gets a nasty surprise.  
> Rey has a disturbing dream and doubting her senses she takes a risk.  
> I don't want to add anymore to spoil it but it's around 5,500 words of Reylo reunion!

Chapter 20 Reunion part 2

Rey and Chewie exchanged frightened looks in the flashing orange firelight. Chewie shuffled reluctantly towards the ramp while Rey watched Targen stride up the hill. Her heart was shuddering as stridently as her Starhawk’s engine. She resisted using a Force push down the slope on Targen; as satisfying as it would have felt she knew it would have further alerted his suspicions. She reached out to Ben instead. She focused on the pulse, reached out and grasped it. It oscillated in her mind as solid and hot as a power cable. She fired the warning along it with as much ferocity as she could, Ben! Ben! If you’re there, run! Run now! 

Targen reached a third of the way when he was subsumed by the gloom, but his voice boomed back. “Where’s that tracker?”  
“We can’t find it!” Rey yelled up at him, her voice ragged with desperation. “It’s packed in a crate somewhere!”  
Some awful moments later she heard a commotion; a man’s cries amidst a volley of caws and shrieks. Then Targen lurched down the hill, shouting and swearing.  
“Those birds!” he screeched, “three of the fuckers! They flew right at me!”  
Rey spotted that he was bleeding from a gash on his left cheek.  
“I think I got one, though,” he gasped as he came towards her. His eyes were darker than ever with fury. “I may have injured the damn thing! Grabbed hold of it real hard! Ripped out a bunch of these!” He threw out a whirling handful of feathers. 

Rey drew in a loud breath and craned to see up the hill, but she felt that Ben had gone. Her voice was quaking as she explained, “They’re everywhere. They were probably drawn to the fire.”  
“Well, if they come down here they will be on the fire!” seethed Targen. “And I swear there are more inside the ship than before. If we hadn’t packed equipment away I’d be out right now scanning that hillside. I swear ...”  
“You swear what?” Poe asked as he swaggered down the ramp, shirt open, sleeves rolled up, and his face shiny with smudges of oil. Beyanga tottered in his wake, his eyes darting around, mouth agape.  
“Something’s out there!” Targen’s voice rose indignantly as he wiped at his face. “Those stupid birds are guarding it!”  
“Nothing’s out there,” Poe responded, “except those birds and the local friendly fish-faced nuns.”  
“It may have been one of them,” suggested Rey hopefully, “coming to see us before we go.”  
“All our data says that we are the only humans here,” maintained Beyanga.  
“I don’t care about the fucking data!” yelled Targen, his hands clenched into claws.  
Beyanga looked stricken, as though Targen had slapped him across the head.  
“But ... but we’ve analysed ...” Beyanga stuttered.  
“Something was going on, something ...” Targen dismissed, and then turned to shoot an extra strength glare at Rey and Chewie.  
Poe shrugged and began kicking at the fire. “How about we all go inside? We’ve a few bits to pack tomorrow and then a challenging journey ahead. We need a nip of hooch and a good sleep.”  
Chewie helped dampen the flames and Beyanga muttered to Targen as he escorted him up the ramp. Rey stared up the slope, her heart finally slowing down.

Rey curled up in the Solo Family Bunk and wept with happiness, stifling her sobs with Ben’s shirt. His scent and heat was still strong from their reunion and she felt replenished in a way that both excited and soothed her. She sprawled on her back, grinning as her mind raced back to the bizarre sensations; waking on Arjan Kloss shivering with the cold, the distant but insistent sound of the sea, the sensations of water, being drawn back to the misty magical island.  
“It was you all the time, Ben, my love,” she sighed to herself. Ben, not dead, but somehow transported to Ahch-To. He had been under the malodorous mound of porgs in the cellar, hidden somehow by their soft oily bodies. Or something else, she mused, her lips pressed together, perhaps even Force signatures. She felt it was a reasonable explanation of how they had fooled Targen’s high-tech tracker. They had attacked Targen twice, and one had approached to her to be petted.

She laughed at the notion of the pudgy grumpy-looking little creatures protecting her big boy. And she appreciated that the caretakers were also caring for him. She acknowledged that they disliked her and it was likely that would never change. It seemed that only members of the Skywalker family had the privilege of being their cherished guests. Ben had looked wonderful; strong and robed, his hair styled back from his face in a way which made her heart flutter. He appeared to her like the Jedi she had always hoped he could have been.  
She stretched her body in delight, the pulse thrumming deliciously. “I’m sorry, Ben,” she whispered, “I should have trusted my instincts. They were right. I thought it impossible, but it’s real.”  
She recalled Leia’s words to her, which she had dismissed as delirious mutterings of the very sick.  
“I was sent here to bring him back,” Rey whispered as she turned and wriggled into the mattress. “And I promise I will.”

In the cellar, by the quivering light of one candle, Ben shushed and examined the birds. Red had added another injury to his assortment of battle scars. A clump of feathers from his back had been yanked out and his right wing looked worryingly crooked.  
“I’m sorry, little ones,” he soothed as he began his inspection.  
Red squawked a few times, but he endured Ben’s fingers prodding for breaks and nicks. Once his long stiff wing feathers had been smoothed, he gazed up at Ben, puffing out his cream-coloured chest.  
Ben chuckled and rubbed the little bird’s head. “You saved me again.”  
Speckles looked unkempt, pieces of grass snagged in his feathers. He discharged a long hissing fart as Ben smoothed out his tail.  
“I hope you gave that man a whiff of that,” he told the bird, turning his head away in disgust. “It’s enough to disarm anybody.”  
Girl demonstrated a slight limp and he allowed him to take her tiny webbed foot to carefully manipulate it.  
“I think you’re all very lucky,” he told them. “Just a few bumps and scratches. You’re going to stay in here tomorrow and rest. I’ll grab some extra large fish for you all.”  
Ben settled them at the foot of his bed, plumping the blankets around them. A rush of love and gratitude for his tiny friends engulfed him for a few moments. He patted each of their heads.  
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I couldn’t leave straightaway. I just had to watch her.”

He hadn’t been able to leave her, despite her pleas, despite his promise. The raw ache of loneliness turned as solid and as undeniable as the rocks around him as soon as Rey had left his embrace. It only grew more unpleasant as she drew away from him. He’d swallowed hard and wiped his face with his sleeve, smoothed his hair back, retying it in the plaited string. Her hands on him had felt extraordinary. He could still smell her sour sweat; taste her sweet lips and tongue.  
He longed to run down the slope and see her again, to pick up her and carry her away. He had a brief exciting flash of memory at this idea, a recollection of her drooping warmth in his arms. He craned to see her, almost ready to go to her, but he had promised he would be safe. He didn’t doubt that those men would harm him. And Rey would come to him tomorrow.  
She had embraced Uncle Chewie and as he watched he recalled the strength and the comfort of being in those hairy arms. He remembered with joy the thrill of being tossed in the air and safely caught. Ben felt a sweet surge of love fill his chest at the sight of Uncle Chewie with Rey.  
The birds cawed impatiently, but he still crouched, breathless and enchanted.  
Then he heard the man’s sharp voice. Moments later Rey’s panicky voice crackled in his mind, urging him to run. He beckoned to the birds, but they scattered when he tried to corral them. Girl lunged and bit his hand. He frowned at them and then realised. He left them and he strode quickly up the hill, thankful for his long legs, willing the dark to close around him and hide him.

Ben Solo. 

He rolled his name over in his mind like a pair of dice as he lay in the darkness. Not Kylo Ren. 

Ben Solo, Rey’s lover.

He thought of his mother and her soft deep eyes. The name Solo rushed a tide of uncomfortable images towards him. The ship in which Rey had arrived, its door sliding shut, raised voices, alone in his room, loneliness pressing at him like a pale face at the window. He pushed further, needing to see the man who had given him his name. Gold dice swinging, a big pair of scuffed boots, a firm warm hand on his shoulder, a throaty laugh.  
He reached again and recoiled in horror. There was a ghastly sensation like dropping a great distance. He shuddered and hugged his knees. He breathed heavily, thought of his bright beautiful Rey and dared to press again. There was nothing but a feeling of spiralling down, of being torn into rags as he fell. Ben groaned and closed his eyes. He knew one thing. His father was dead.

Rey woke early after a shallow sleep. She had dreamed about plunging into the icy cave pool, Ben flailing under the turbid water alongside her. As she reached for his pale hand he was tugged out of her reach, eyes and mouth wide with fright. She sat up in the bunk and gathered back her messy hair, wiping the gunk from her eyes. She was worried about Ben. The others were due to leave later that day and she knew she should wait. She knew that was the safe thing to do, but she had to see him immediately.  
She needed proof that he hadn’t been a vision and to eliminate the uneasiness from her dream. She was afraid that it was a trick of the Force, a lesson she didn’t want to participate in. She still doubted her senses her stomach churned as she found her trousers and tunic, unfolded her poncho and knotted her hair up in a bun. It was not quite light when she pressed the button to open the Falcon’s door and lower the ramp. She hoped that the others were sleeping heavily after their nightcaps of pilot’s hooch. 

She dragged out the Starhawk, starting the re-assembling efficiently despite her impatient trembling hands. She drew on her scavenging experience, where she had worked speedily in unstable and dangerous conditions. She found that calm focus and clutched onto it as resolutely as she did her pneumatic spanner.  
“Need a hand with that?” a voice startled her. She dropped the spanner and whipped round.  
Poe sauntered down the ramp holding a steaming tin mug. “I thought we were taking your speeder with us?”  
“Oh, uhm, I changed my mind. It’ll be useful to have here.”  
“What about fuel?” Poe asked.  
“I can take a bit from you. There must be enough left. As for getting more, I don’t know,” Rey answered, trying to keep from sounding tetchy. She applied the spanner to a large greasy nut on the speeder’s sloping front prong.  
“The Caretakers may know how to get some,” she explained as she worked. “There are other islands, and their males return every so often from big fishing trips with all kinds of things.”  
“It’s very early, though,” Poe remarked. “You could have waited until me and Chewie were up and caffeinated.”  
“It’s fine,” she said as casually as possible as she worked her helmet over her hair.  
“I was awake early. I thought I’d go to the village and see if the Caretakers have any big juicy fish for us,” she suggested, knowing of Poe’s large appetite. “Maybe even some proper bread. So you could enjoy a hearty leaving breakfast.”  
“You really think they’d give you anything?” Poe laughed and drained his cup with one noisy gulp.  
Rey swung her leg over the Starhawk’s battered saddle. “I can try.”  
Poe stepped towards her and tapped the speeder. “I’ll come with you,” he told her, grinning. “Two can ride on that thing.”  
Rey was flustered for a moment, gripping the handlebars, ready to fly off. “I thought you said it was too dangerous.”  
“That’s true, but why not?” Poe mused, inspecting the speeder and then the sky. “It looks like a good dry morning. I may learn a thing or two, apply my piloting skills to something different.”  
“No, really,” Rey told him. Then she met his eyes with hers and nudged at his mind very softly. She smiled as she felt a little give, a doubt, and she nudged again. Doubt was like a gap between lumpy asteroids. Quickly, she slipped in. “You really need more coffee and to double check those navlogs,” her voice was as light as a caress.  
“I really need more coffee and to double check those navlogs,” Poe announced and turned to the ramp.

Rey was shaking as she dismounted the Starhawk just above the village. The pulse was vigorous there, breaking in time with the waves and her throbbing heart. The area was quiet and deserted. She easily found the large hut and swiftly located the hatch in the floor. The cellar was dim and cool, smelling of earth and fish. She slid down the ladder, holding her breath. Once safely down, her eyes scanned the shadowy bulks and shapes. There seemed to be more items than on her last visit. She couldn’t see him but she could feel him.  
She shuffled further in, following a low regular noise. There on the floor at her feet on a misshapen narrow mattress was Ben. In the faint shafts of light from the slim ceiling gaps, she saw that he was curled on his side under her brown striped blanket, his hair flopping back to revealing his beautifully large ear. He looked peaceful, his full lips slightly parted and letting out little huffy snores. 

She experienced a blazing flashback to the ruined remains of Snoke’s Throne Room. Kylo had lain on his side on the floor, eyes closed, still unconscious from the lightsaber’s explosion. She’d considered killing him with his own saber then, but something had tugged at her. Not only the guilt of murdering a defenceless man, she’d realised, but something else. That bond, that beginning of love which she had felt for Ben Solo was still alive. Like a distant star it radiated faint waves of energy.  
In the cellar, she gazed at him sleeping for what seemed like such a long luscious time, tears spilling down her cheeks. He wasn’t alone. Three porgs were snuggled up at the foot of his bed and she gave a surprised sob when she noticed that one had feathers missing from its back.

Ben woke abruptly, disturbed by a noise. He’d been deep down in a delicious sleep. The first thing he saw was Rey, standing over him, watching him. The grey slants of light from above made the tears on her face glimmer like silver.  
“Rey!” he exclaimed and before she had time to respond he reached up and scooped her into his arms.  
He pulled her onto him, bundling her under the blankets. She was giggling and loose limbed and easily let him roll her beneath him. He kissed her deeply, one hand sliding underneath her tunic to rub her warm breast, her nipple. She pushed up into his palm and moaned into his mouth. At the bottom of the bed the birds flapped and cawed with irritation.  
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he lifted his head from Rey and leaned to pat them. “How about I put you somewhere else?”  
He gathered them in one of the blankets and placed them carefully inside their carrying basket nearby. They peered up with their round black eyes and their thin down-turned mouths. Girl trilled softly.  
“There, now rest in there,” he instructed them. “Things may get a bit, uhm, bumpy in the bed.”  
Rey was propped up on one elbow in his bed, her hair straggling out of its bun, one small smooth breast peeking from her rumpled tunic.  
It was the sexiest sight he could ever imagine and he had imagined a lot of sexy scenarios featuring her recently. His stomach flipped and his erection swelled.  
“Bumpy,” she remarked with a slow smile. “I like the sound of that.”  
“How about bumpy and hot?” he asked as he lowered himself back onto her.  
He kissed her gently, the only noises in the dimness were their heavy breaths and sighs and the ruffle of feathers from the birds’ basket. He clutched her close, feeling her heart pound with his and that beautiful luminous connection felt like lava flowing between them. 

They pulled apart, panting. Her eyes were bright in the gloom.  
“I love you, Rey,” he told her gently. “Last night,” he began awkwardly. She was watching him intently. “You ... I heard you say ‘I know.’”  
“I did,” she admitted pleasantly.  
“Do you ...?” he pressed. He thought he knew, but he needed to hear it. He feared that her feelings may have cooled now she had found him.  
“Yes,” she confirmed and kissed him lightly. “I love you, Ben. Don’t be afraid. I loved you then and I love you now and I will love you always.”  
His lip trembled and his vision blurred with tears. She brushed his cheeks and held him and stroked his hair and he knew he was finally home.

They lay silent and content for a while. Then Rey stretched in his arms, reaching to caress his hair. “I like this,” she confessed as she pulled at the braided string.  
“Did you make it?”  
“No,” he replied, covering her hand with his. “My carers gave me several. This is my favourite. One of them put my hair like this.”  
Rey laughed and he felt it vibrate through his chest.  
“So you have your own personal hairdresser?”  
“And chef, and dresser,” he added and kissed her nose.  
Rey grinned. “It seems like you’re being treated like royalty, Ben Solo.”  
“I can’t complain. But I do my chores. I was living in the laundry hut until you and those men arrived.”  
“Prince of Washing!” she joked.  
“I know why they are here.” He turned serious. “I know they want Kylo. That’s me, well, I’m pretty sure I was him. It all seems weird, far away.”  
“That’s because it is,” she agreed. “Kylo is gone.”  
“Yes, he is,” he confirmed and hugged her to him.

“Ben,” she sighed his name as he held her. “I must go. I made a lame excuse about coming here to beg fish for breakfast.”  
“One more kiss.” His low seductive voice made her ache. “Please, Rey.”  
“Just one, then I must leave. They may look for me.”  
She welcomed Ben’s embrace again, his delectable tongue, his deft hands. She slipped her own hands inside his shirt, exploring the smooth contours of his sturdy torso, feeling his heart beating fast. He was so warm. She pressed hard into him, the feel of her bare skin against his made her catch her breath with delight. She didn’t mind his pungent smell, his tangled hair, his stubble which scraped her chin, the narrow lumpy bed. This was the most perfect moment in her life so far.  
He was nudging at her with his hardness, and she was ready to strip off their pants and take him inside her. She was wet and panting, his mouth was on her neck and he was rocking her. 

Suddenly she was aware of a scraping noise.  
“The hatch,” Ben gasped, his hands clenched round her butt.  
“What? No,” Rey responded, panicking. She pushed at him, trying to see.  
Footsteps and Ben was sitting up, whipping the blanket over her.  
Under its warm weight she heard a rapid series of squeaks and clicks.  
“Benchoo? Reyfaa?”  
“Halla,” he replied in a high voice.  
“Reyfaa oocha negay!” the Caretakers retaliated angrily.  
“No, no, it’s fine,” he was saying, his tone soft. “Rey’s not a danger.”  
“Reyfaa! Reyfaa!”  
“Nagay!” he said loudly, and uttered a quick stream of other words she couldn’t make out.  
Then Rey felt the blanket lift and she raised her sweaty tousled head to see two of the Caretakers glaring at her. 

“Ben, you can’t come with me,” Rey told him adamantly as they stood together in the entrance of the hut.  
In the cellar, one of the Caretakers had jabbed at her with knitting needles and both nuns had hooted so loudly that she feared the whole island could hear. Ben had attempted to calm them down, flapping them away with one hand, covering his crotch with the other. Rey had noticed that his flimsy trousers were no match for his considerable erection.  
Rey had climbed the ladder quickly and announced that she was going.

But Ben had followed her, a leather cape over his shoulders, the basket of porgs clutched in front of him.  
“Yes, I can,” he countered.  
“Well, leave the birds behind,” she instructed.  
“No,” he said shortly, his mouth petulant, his eyes narrowing. Rey remembered Kylo’s sullen expressions and she shivered. She quickly wondered if he had entirely gone. She realised that though she loved Ben, she didn’t know really know him.  
Then he smiled gently at her. “Please. Wherever I go, they go. It’s the rule.”  
“Okay, but where can we go? I really should return to the others. Perhaps near the ship? You could wait up by the grassy dip.”  
“I don’t know,” he replied, “I need somewhere I can ravish you in private before I explode with lust,” he smiled, showing his crooked teeth. “And somewhere I can fetch fish for the birds.” He looked down at the trilling trio of porgs. Behind him in the hut the Caretakers muttered and glared.  
“The Jedi huts” Rey proposed quietly.  
“Jedi?” he quizzed, his voice sharp.  
Rey nodded impatiently. The nuns were shuffling towards them mumbling. One still held the knitting needles. She said, “Yes, that’s who built them, I think.”  
Ben frowned and brushed his hair back. His full mouth quivered. “I remember the word, but that’s all.”  
Rey touched his arm. She was anxious to leave, but excited and aroused, aware of the risk but desperate for him.  
“It’s quite a story, but it’s one for another time,” she told him as she stepped on the path. 

“It’s ... a ... Starhawk?” With a thrill, he recognised the green swoop bike parked on the grassy shelf.  
Rey nodded as she lifted the helmet from the back saddle.  
Ben gazed in admiration, his mind winding back. “I had holo posters of bikes on my wall when I was young. I loved watching the races.”  
Rey grinned. “It was in a salvage yard. I fixed it up a bit, but it needs a lot more work.”  
“I’ll drive it, I bet I know how,” he said excitedly, preparing to swing his leg over it.  
Rey’s voice turned stern. “You’ll do no such thing, Ben Solo.”  
She swatted him away and he held out his hands in a shrug.  
“It’s very temperamental,” she explained. “I’m used to how it flies by now, but even so, it’s tricky. You just sit on the back and look after those porgs.”  
He frowned at her briefly, disappointed, but knowing that she was right.  
He scrunched himself up in the tiny back seat, the birds strapped to him in their basket. “Are you ready for a different kind of flight?” he asked them just as Rey opened the throttle with a roar which made the little birds cheep in fright.

Even as a passenger Ben loved the bike. They kept as low and as steady as possible, but he found its noisy juddering and acrid exhaust smell exhilarating. Best of all was Rey tucked in front of him. He nuzzled into her, his lips on her shoulder, his hands cupping her breasts.  
“Ben!” she shouted back at him as they skimmed up the slope. “Stop it! You’re going to make me crash it!”  
“Ah, you’re too good a pilot for that,” he disagreed, squeezing her.  
“Ben!” she admonished. “Oh, your hands are huge! Nearly as big as Chewie’s!”  
“I have to hold onto something, sweetheart,” he teased, and his fingers rubbed her satisfyingly hard nipples. “You wouldn’t want me falling off, would you?”  
“Hey, just cool it for a bit!” she complained, wriggling away without success.  
“No, I can’t help it. I’m as horny as fuck, Rey,” he moaned close to her helmet. He wished she would remove it so he could access her neck and her ears with his mouth. Instead, he continued kneading her breasts.  
“You can’t imagine the fantasies I’ve been tormented with over the last few days,” he confessed loudly over the thunder of the engine. “And now you’re sitting with your sweet breasts in my hands and your beautiful ass in my lap.”  
“I know! I saw you fantasizing!” she yelled back. “And I was all turned on too.”  
“You saw me?” he shouted.  
Rey swerved around a bulk of rocks and his head was light and he was almost fainting from desire, his hands grasping at her tunic.  
“How turned on?” he asked.

Rey could hardly speak. His hands were on her skin, making her tremble and feel giddy. “I touched myself. I made myself ...” her voice grew faint with shyness, and she was glad the helmet hid her blush, “... you know, come.”  
“What was that?” his mouth was on her shoulder, his breath hot and damp. “You made yourself what?”  
“Ben! You know!” she hollered over the noise of the speeder and the rush of the wind.  
“Ah, you did, did you?” and he squeezed her to him so tightly that she found it hard to breathe for a few dizzy moments.  
“Yes, I did! But if you don’t behave yourself both our asses will be hauled into those rocks! If you want to live to see more of what’s under my clothes then behave!” A bolt of desire streaked from her nipples to the glowing place between her legs. She flipped up the helmet’s visor. Her desire was so fierce that she could barely see.

The speeder was hard enough to control as it was and it still suffered that disagreeable tilt to one side. Now with Ben’s considerable weight on it Rey knew they were in danger of spilling off.  
She felt his erection pressing into her butt and she heard him say, “Rey, oh, just move back a bit more.”  
He grabbed her hips and pulled her back and he was flexing back and forth and groaning. She slowed the speeder, afraid that she was losing control of it. It tilted and dipped and Ben was grinding against her now, his one hand gripping her hip and the other grasping her breast. He jerked a few times as he sighed and moaned.  
“Ben! Have you just ...?” she asked in astonishment even though she had felt his relief flood through her.  
He sagged against her and the Starhawk lurched. The exhaust chugged loudly.  
“Oh, I give up! You’re a danger!” she exclaimed. “We need to land!”

The speeder bike had just touched the ground when Ben grabbed her and rolled her to the grass. The porgs spilled from their basket and squawked and flapped around them.  
Ben batted them away, “Stop that!” he chided. “I should have left you behind!”  
“You should have left yourself behind!” Rey admonished him as she struggled to unfasten her helmet. “Look at where we are now!” she looked around, afraid that she would see Targen, tracker held high, striding over the hill towards them.  
But Ben was on her, shrugging off his cape off, panting. His eyes were dark and his face was flushed.  
“Let’s just do it, here, Rey. I want you now.”  
“But you just ...” she started to say as he covered her mouth with his.  
“Doesn’t matter, I’m ready,” he mumbled against her lips, his hands on her skin, warm and sure.  
“No, not in the open!” Rey cried as she broke the kiss, her lips covered in saliva.  
He moved back and wiped her mouth tenderly.  
“You’re right, I’m being reckless.” He sat up and smoothed back his hair. The day was cloudy and breezy with spots of rain swooping in from the sea.  
“After I woke up in the cave, I managed to crawl out and ended up on a grassy slope like this,” he explained in a low measured voice. “I was naked and cold and I had no idea where I was or who I was.” He gazed up at the sky and Rey admired his profile, his dark lashes, and the way his thick black hair ruffled in the breeze.  
“There are still things you don’t remember,” she acknowledged, touching his hand.  
“Yes. Just fragments of memory came back,” he mused, and she brushed at her clothes. The porgs were picking at the grass and cawing. “Bits and pieces floating in, like clouds.”

“It looks like you have Luke’s clothes on now,” Rey remarked, tugging at his dark sleeve.  
“Luke?” his voice was as surprised as the look on his face. One eyebrow was raised higher than the other.  
“Yes, he was your uncle. You don’t remember him? He lived here.”  
Ben looked puzzled, his brows drawing together. Then she saw the hurt in his eyes as he uttered, “The man. He’s the man.”  
“So, you ...” she began to ask as she got to her feet. The area was exposed and chilly and the ground was wet.  
“So ... nothing,” Ben finished as he scrambled up. “Let’s go. It’s not safe out here. I’m sorry, I got carried away.” He fastened his cape and rounded up the chattering porgs. Rey smiled at the way the birds responded to him.  
“The huts?” she suggested, aware of the arousal between her legs as well as the damp from the ground. “I think we’ll have time.”

The huts were deserted and Rey led him to the one which had been hers. The birds were deposited hastily, left to peck and scratch outside. He tried to push the name of the man from his mind for now, to slip back into the erotic fervour he had so relished. On the small bed he cupped her face and kissed her.  
Rey responded quickly, melting into his embrace with a series of little sighs.  
He yanked off his cape and tunic and then drew her back to him. “Have you done it before, I mean, had sex?” he asked as she stroked his bare back.  
“Yes,” she replied quietly. Her fingers paused.  
“With me?”  
“No. I had one kiss with you and then you faded away. There were just your clothes left in a dusty heap.”  
He stared at her. She looked so sad. “You thought I was dead, didn’t you, Rey?”  
“Yes,” she admitted, tears shimmering in her eyes. “I really did.”  
“Well, I don’t plan to fade away now,” he declared and he held her tightly. His mouth nibbled her ear. “If I do, and I wake up somewhere strange and without you I’ll be very angry.”

She turned her head to him and they kissed again. He slid her tunic off and admired her. Her nipples were puckered with the chill and her hair fell in messy waves around her shoulders. He adored how she appeared so strong and yet soft with femininity.  
“How about you?” Rey inquired, dipping her head shyly.  
“Me what?”  
“Have you had women?” she looked quickly at him and then back down.  
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t remember any. I mean ...” he wanted to tell her about the red-haired girl at the campfire but decided that now was not the time.  
“It doesn’t matter,” Rey breathed as she climbed into his lap. 

His lips found her breasts, kissing and sucking, and then he tilted his head to meet her mouth, exploring and licking. Rey’s hands pulled at his hair and she was groaning.  
“Yes, now, be quick, Ben, please,” she whimpered while she pulled at his belt, his hands helping her push his trousers down, she trying to unfasten her trousers. She stared at him greedily, her mouth open, her cheeks pink.  
“Rey, I want to sink this so deep inside you I don’t know where I end and you begin,” he moaned as he took his erection and positioned it between her legs. The wet brush of her hair made him tingle from root to tip.  
“Oh, Ben,” she sighed.  
Then there was a flash of light. For a confused moment he wondered if this was part of sex, if he had indeed exploded with desire or even disappeared again. But immediately after there was a sharp bang as the door swung open.  
He heard a startled voice echo around the hut.  
“Kylo Ren?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last I've been able to give you Reylo naughtiness and fluff. Really loved this one and hope you all do too!  
> As always, I love reading your comments and if you leave kudos that is awesome as well!  
> 


	21. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben are caught while about to have sex in her old hut.  
> But who by? And will Ben be safe?  
> What follows changes everything for everyone.

Chapter 21 - Discovery

“Kylo Ren?” Poe’s voice was squeaky with incredulity. “Holy Kriff! It is! Kylo Ren! He’s really here!”  
Rey remained on Ben’s lap, her arms locked around his neck, rigid with shock.  
She felt Ben shudder. They took a deep breath at the same time, ready to speak, but Poe was shouting, wrenching his blaster out of its holster. From behind him BB-8 rolled inside with loud agitated beeps.  
“Rey! What the fuck is going on here? Get away from him, Rey!” Poe urged, pointing his blaster at the pair of them. He stepped forward and BB-8 moved with him, his electroprod unfurled from its toolbay.  
Rey realised with dismay that her lightsaber was still strapped to the Starhawk outside.  
“No,” she refused. Her voice was deep and savage and her hands moved protectively to Ben’s head.  
“Rey!” Poe shrieked. “Come here now!”  
“And you,” he jabbed his weapon at Ben at each word. “You were raping her! You sick son of a ...”  
“I was not,” Ben cut in. His voice was steady though Rey was aware of him trembling.  
“He wasn’t!” Rey reiterated, still covering him with her body despite her naked butt being on display. She wriggled her trousers partway up with one hand. Ben rummaged with her, pulling at his waistband.  
“Don’t move, Ren!” Poe ordered. “Put your hands where I can see them!”  
Rey appealed. “He was not raping me, Poe!” She tugged down her vest and twisted round.  
“Oh, sure he wasn’t!” Poe gasped. “Just like you were fetching our breakfast! That’s no farking fish!”  
“Calm down and put that gun away. She’s safe,” Ben insisted, his hands firmly on Rey’s waist.  
“What? How dare you! Let go of her, you disgusting scum! Rey, he’s mind tricking you! Rey!”  
“Poe, he’s not ... this situation ... it’s not what you think it is.”  
“Let her explain,” Ben told him calmly and Rey glanced at him. At close range she could see that his mouth was twitching though his eyes were very still and fixed on Poe.

Poe huffed. “Don’t try any of your dark side tricks on me, Ren! This time I’m armed!”  
“I can see that,” Ben remarked coolly. “And I’m not tricking anyone.”  
“You are!” Poe yelled. “Now put your hands up and move away from Rey!”  
Rey held Ben close, eyeing the blaster directed at them. She doubted that Poe had a clean shot at Ben. She knew she could use the Force deflect the blaster bolt. She focused on Poe’s finger curled round the trigger, his stance. She vowed that if he started to squeeze the trigger, to shift his weight forward, she would not hesitate to use her power. She would push him backwards out of the open door.  
“Poe!” she called his name sharply. “Put down the blaster!”  
Poe grimaced, lowering the weapon only slightly. “Move away from him, Rey, or I’ll shoot him in the leg!”  
“If you so much as start squeezing that trigger, Poe Dameron, I will hurt you,” Rey warned him and her voice faltered. Her heart raced and she cradled Ben’s head. “I don’t want to, but I will do it to protect Ben.”  
“Who? What? Have you gone mad?” Poe’s face contorted and reddened and he made a sound like he’d been shot in the leg.  
“Rey, get away from him! Please! What are you doing? I can’t ...” and he bent over and groaned while BB-8 bumped and buzzed around him.

Ben recognised the man but he couldn’t recall from where. He noticed mighty surges of anger rolling from him but underneath, like rocks by the shore, he sensed a solid affection for Rey. It was this which prevented his frustration and anger from frothing over. He was exposed and vulnerable in the most embarrassing way, his pants sticky and his balls aching. Rey clung to him, her damp heat seeping into him.  
“Poe,” he heard Rey saying as she stroked his head. He’d bent instinctively into her, his face against her skin. He welcomed her protectiveness, her love, and it soothed him.  
“Poe, put that blaster away and calm down before someone gets hurt,” she requested.  
Ben heard a scuffling noise and the thunk of the droid rolling to and fro. He felt Rey’s relief as her grip on him loosened. The man called Poe had lowered his weapon and he held it pointed at the floor. But his face remained a mess of rage and confusion. His thick hair stood up in messy tufts as he raked his free hand through it and then over his face.  
“Thank you,” Ben told him. “Now, you caught us at a delicate moment and we need to uhm, tidy ourselves up. You owe Rey that at least.”  
Poe muttered and nodded.  
Rey clambered from Ben and rapidly twisted her clothes back into place, smoothing back her hair from her face. Ben stood and turned to the wall, wiping at his crotch, tucking away his withered dick, buckling his belt and fastening his robe. He combed his fingers swiftly through his hair and rubbed his face with his sleeve.  
Then he faced the man and the droid.  
“Step outside,” Poe ordered, his broad face still wearing a furious frown. “And don’t try anything.”

As soon as they emerged onto the paved area outside the hut, the three birds fluttered at Poe with raucous squawks. Ben whirled about in shock when he felt a pain bolt through his leg. He’d thought that he had been finally shot, but on looking down the round droid was firing white crackles of electricity at him.  
“Ow!” Ben shouted, swatting away the droid, dancing out of its bobbing reach. “Pack that in!”  
Poe was yelling and fending off Speckles and Red who were trying to disarm him by lunging at his hand holding the blaster. Ben heard Rey call out as Girl launched herself at the droid and received a bright smack of electricity. Girl tumbled backwards with a tiny cry.  
“No!” Ben roared, kicking the droid and sending him spinning to the grass. He scooped up Girl who felt boneless, her head drooping back. “No, no,” he gasped as he hugged the bird to him.  
Rey was beside him, her arms held out. Poe was backing off, the two birds trilling and snapping.

They all stared at each other, panting, their eyes shiny with wariness. Ben bent his head to Girl, who lay flopped against his chest. He fumbled through her feathers, found a faint throb. “It’s okay,” he cooed to her. “You’ll be okay. Good bird, good brave bird.”  
Rey stepped forward. “Poe, go back to the ship. Tell them I’ve stayed in the village. Then leave.”  
Poe shook his head. “I can’t do that, Rey. You know I can’t.”  
Rey was stricken, tears in her eyes. Ben reached for her, pulling her to him. In his other arm he held Girl who was emitting weak shaky squeaks.  
“This man ... Kylo Ren ...” Poe began, his voice quaking. He pointed his blaster at Ben. “He has to face what he did.”  
“But he can’t remember what he did!” Rey countered in exasperation.  
“She’s right. Listen to her,” Ben implored. He wished the blaster would point away. “I lost my memory.”  
Poe laughed sharply. “Well, that’s convenient, Mr Murdering Whole Villages! Very handy, Kylo Destroying Whole Star Systems Fucking Ren!”  
Ben stepped back, startled. The blaster was aimed resolutely at his chest. Rey pressed herself next to him, shaking and silent.  
“You! Kylo Ren! You did that! Murderer!” Poe screamed. “So you’re both coming with me! Now!”  
“I’m sorry, Ben,” Rey said softly, taking his hand in hers. Her large eyes were wet and sorrowful and her pretty mouth quivered. “It’s my fault. I should have waited. I shouldn’t have come ...” and she wept noisily into her hand. Ben pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head.

“Ben?” Poe asked. “Why do you keep calling him that?”  
“Because it’s my name,” Ben said. “I’m Ben Solo.”  
Poe looked dumbstruck, his mouth turning slack. “Ben Solo? Solo? Is this a joke? Ben Solo?”  
“No,” Ben answered.  
Rey lifted her head, sniffed and wiped her nose. She heaved in a breath. “Before he was called Kylo Ren, this man was Ben Solo. He’s the son of Han Solo and Leia Organa.”  
“No, he died,” Poe muttered, pacing and shaking his head. “General Organa didn’t like to talk about her son, but she told me once that he died.”  
“That’s kind of true,” Ben murmured. Han Solo and Leia Organa. The names pattered in his head and fell deep into his heart like drops of rain.  
“From a certain point of view,” added Rey, and looked up at Ben with a trembling smile.  
“You,” Poe squinted at Ben for some moments. His eyes roved up and down and then fell back onto Ben’s face. Poe grimaced at him. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me! This is insane!”  
“It’s true,” Ben uttered. He was frightened but held fast to those names, Han Solo and Leia Organa.  
“Kylo Ren ... all that time ... you were ...”  
Ben nodded solemnly. He was willing Poe to lower the blaster and sensed Rey was doing the same thing.  
Poe shook his head in disbelief. “This is all mixed up. I don’t understand. Rey, why were you with him like that, half naked and ...”  
“He saved me, Poe. He renounced Kylo Ren. Ben Solo saved my life. Well, he did more than that. He gave his life for me.”  
“What? Where was this?”  
“On Exegol,” Ben claimed, the name clear and as bright in his mind as the sick light of that grim place.  
“There is a reason why Ben is here, but I don’t know how or why,” Rey continued quickly, “I thought he was dead .... there was no body. Ben just vanished! I was telling the truth when I thought he was dead.”  
“She only found out I was alive last night,” Ben chipped in, breathing heavily. “And believe me, she was shocked.”

“But he needs to be questioned, to be held accountable,” Poe argued. The breeze was fresh and Ben shivered. He cursed himself for leaving his cape inside the hut.  
“He can’t be held accountable if he doesn’t remember! Let him get his memory back here first! Please leave him be!” Rey argued loudly, stepping forward, placing herself between Poe and Ben.  
Ben regarded her, his beautiful girl with her hair blowing back from her face. He was in awe of her ferocity. He felt that energy thrumming from her like waves breaking around her and he loved her for it.  
Ben reached for her, gathering her to him. He leaned down and kissed her, savouring the salty heat of her mouth. His tongue darted between her lips a couple of times before he heard Poe exclaim, “That’s enough!”  
Ben gave Rey one last soft caress and then drew himself up. “I’ll come with you,” he agreed. “But only if no one gets hurt.”  
“No!” Rey cried, pulling at his arm. “Don’t, Ben!”  
Poe replied to Rey, “We won’t hurt him as long as he behaves. Though I’m tempted to give him a taste of what he did to me on his ship.”  
“What did I do? And, Poe Dameron, you can address me directly,” Ben demanded.  
“You,” Poe responded fiercely, “you tortured me, Kylo Ren. Rey knows you did. You did it to her, too. You strapped us down in a chair and enjoyed inflicting pain on us.”  
Ben flinched. A throb of memory like a headache; a shadowy room, sweaty skin, rolling eyes, and the distinctive thrill of power. He stared back at Poe and admitted flatly, “Yes, yes, I did.”

Rey was terrified, debating the efficacy of mind tricking Poe while knowing that he was highly disturbed. Her thoughts turned to other means of saving Ben; hurling Poe off the cliff, destroying BB-8 with a crush of her power, racing the Starhawk to the Falcon to kill Targen and Beyanga.  
“Poe, please,” she begged. “I lost Ben once; please don’t let me lose him again. I love him.”  
“And I love her,” Ben replied immediately.  
“This is the craziest shit I’ve ever heard!” Poe blurted out, his dark eyes darting from Ben to Rey and back again. “Am I dreaming? It can’t be true!” BB-8 twirled on the grass, firing out beeps and chirps at Rey.  
“Believe it,” she heard Ben say. “You’ll get your answers in time. I guess we all will.”

They moved away from the huts, Ben holding Girl in his arms, Poe trudging behind him with the blaster held out, BB-8 rocking over the grass. Rey chugged beside them on the Starhawk, the basket containing the two other porgs tied to the seat behind her. She gripped the handles and pressed her lips together in concentration. The only viable option she could see ahead was luring Targen and Beyanga into the open to Force Freeze them before taking off in the Falcon. She hadn’t actually frozen anyone, but Ben had. She didn’t know if he had even retained any of his powers and, if he had, whether they were as fragmented and nebulous as his memories.  
She settled on a good old push into the water. She would leave them thrashing in the sea. She wasn’t sure about Poe; his rage and confusion were a dangerous combination without his impetuous flyboy streak. She hoped she wouldn’t need to hurt him or leave him behind. Part of her wanted to, to vent the frustration at being interrupted just as she was about to slide onto Ben. His soft wet mouth on her breasts had felt divine. The sensation of him nudging close to her was strong and sweet and glorious. She glanced at him as he strode ahead of her and realised that she would kill for him.

“He’s here!” yelled Poe as they reached the lower slope above the Falcon. “Kylo Ren!”  
“Poe!” Rey warned. “Stop it!”  
But Poe was shouting and waving. “Kylo Ren! I have Kylo Ren!”  
Rey heard a clatter of boots before Targen and Beyanga skidded down the ramp.  
Ben didn’t hesitate. Rey’s heart thudded in panic and then swelled with pride as he stepped forward calmly, tucked Girl under his elbow, and lifted his arms in a slow shrug.  
Targen and Beyanga gawped.  
Rey revved down the Starhawk’s engine and stepped off it slowly. She unfastened the basket of birds and set it on the ground. She surreptitiously released her saber from its leather strap and clipped it to her belt and then moved closer to Ben.  
“It’s ... you,” Targen muttered after a few moments of silence, his eyes fixed on Ben. “It is really you, Kylo Ren.”  
“How?” Beyanga squealed.  
“It doesn’t matter!” snarled Targen, and Rey choked when he drew his blaster and aimed it at Ben.  
“Kylo Ren! I have you at last! Now you’re going to know what pain is!”

Rey was shocked that it all happened. But she was more shocked that it happened so quickly.  
As soon as Targen drew his weapon at Ben, Girl leapt out of Ben’s arms in a squawking flapping frenzy. Targen was horrifyingly fast and sure and gripped the noisy bird in one hand.  
“You fucker!” he yelled at Girl who floundered and cried. “That’s the last time you attack me!”  
He twisted and grunted, still clutching his blaster. Rey felt sick at the sound of a wet crunch. Girl dropped to the ground.  
Rey cried out in disgust, watching the little bird writhe on the stone, her wing bent backwards, her mouth open, cawing in distress.  
Rey rapidly reached forward to snatch up the porg at the same time her right hand was moving to her saber on her belt. She heard a whoosh and felt a hot slam which almost knocked her down. Her upper arm blazed in agony. Gasping and confused, she looked around to see Beyanga, his smoking blaster aimed at her, his face pale. She heard shouts of rage and then the pain in her arm turned into an inferno and she dropped to the ground alongside Girl.  
Targen’s voice shrieked above the yells. “Get them! Get her and Ren! Tie them up in the hold! Now! Come on, Dameron!”  
“Poe, no!” she screeched, scrabbling on the wet stone to reach the shaking injured porg. “Ben! Run!”  
She saw Poe standing still, stricken, his head turning from her to Ben who was also standing shocked and frozen.  
“He’s not running anywhere!” Targen screamed and aimed his blaster at Ben. 

Rey was on her knees, her arm aflame, using the other one to claw at Girl. Her vision clouded and bright sparks of light exploded in her head. She shook herself and when she looked up there was a shape advancing down the ramp, a tall shape looming behind Targen. The spots of light rushed before her but she heard a roar and a snap followed by a long gurgling wail.  
When her eyes cleared Targen was writhing on the ground, his arm as floppy as Girl’s wing. The Wookie snatched up his blaster and tossed it over the edge of the rocky platform, into the heaving sea.

“Uncle Chewie!” Ben shouted. He had been stunned by the sudden violence, scared of moving, even when Rey fell, because these men were insane. He knew he had to be careful. But the smaller tubby one was turning his weapon on his Uncle.  
“No!” Ben yelled.  
Terrified, seeing the man steady his blaster to fire, Ben stretched out his own hand, his bare empty hand. It felt so natural, and he felt that familiar power enter him, like a dreadful cold wind. It rose from his chest and surged into his shoulder and down his arm and out of him. A potent icy force rushed at the man, fixing him in place. His eyes rolled and he grimaced. But the rest of him was as rigid as the rock under their feet.  
“Get Rey!” Ben ordered, his arm still outstretched, vibrating with the chilly energy. Uncle Chewie dashed to Rey, scooping her and Girl up in one dazzling deft movement, and pounded up the ramp.  
“You! Poe Dameron!” Ben shouted. “Get the other birds! And the speeder bike! Now!”  
On the ground by the ramp the thin man who hated him with a ferocity which had winded him lay howling and kicking. The other was white faced and stiff, his blaster pointed at nothing.

Ben watched Poe Dameron disappear up into the ship lugging the speeder, the birds hopping frantically behind him, the droid whirling. He remained on the edge of the ramp and twisted his outstretched hand. The stout man was shunted backwards, his weapon tumbling from his hands. He stopped short of the rock edge. “Stay there,” Ben commanded. “Or you’ll be fish food.”

Inside the ship the engines were throbbing and lights were flashing. Ben knew the way to the cockpit just as he knew how to dress himself.  
Poe was in the left hand seat, snatching at switches. “Where are they?”  
“Outside,” Ben replied curtly. He turned to the giant shaggy creature in the other seat.  
“Is the ramp secure, Uncle Chewie?”  
Chewie roared that it certainly was.  
Poe looked wild-eyed and sweaty. “You can’t do that! You can’t just leave them!”  
“Too late. I just did,” Ben remarked. “I may have lost my memory, but you seemed to have lost your eyesight. Those guys were going to kill Uncle Chewie and Rey. Just look at Rey.”  
Rey was slouched in the seat behind Poe, her face shiny and pale. Her right arm was a mess of blood and burnt skin. She smiled and winced and he felt a sharp stab of pain in his arm. “I’ll be okay. Just a surface wound,” she told him and he touched her quickly on the hand. On her lap Girl trilled and he patted her head. 

Ben turned to Poe. “And now we’re leaving. You need to move. I’m going to sit there.”  
Poe shook his head, despite Ben standing above him. Uncle Chewie was fastening his headset and powering up more systems. Ben thought it was one of the most wonderful sounds in the world.  
Poe frowned. “You can’t fly this!” he argued. “I can, so you should let me!”  
Ben shrugged and shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, I don’t trust you. Now move. We need to go,”  
“You don’t trust me?” Poe asked incredulously but he relinquished the seat.  
Ben fell gratefully into it, surveying the knobs and switches around him. His hands gripped the yoke and flexed.  
“Strap yourselves in,” he announced over the whine of the engines. “This isn’t going to be pretty.”  
Rey’s voice was quiet behind him, “Ben, do you know how?”  
“I think so,” he responded. It felt so familiar, the curve of the seat, the angle of the yoke, the round shapely window in front of him. His feet found the pedals the first time. He slid the seat back, positioned the comms set on his head.  
From behind Uncle Chewie Poe laughed. “You think so? Well, I know I can! I skipped lightspeed in this thing!”  
Ben smiled and reached up to flick three switches above his head. It was as natural as sweeping the hair from his eyes. Looking up, he saw the dice. His father’s gold dice, hanging there like they had always done.  
He remembered the warm hand on his shoulder, the throaty voice, “You can do this, kid.”  
“And I flew this when I was a boy,” Ben declared with a smile. “My father taught me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this one! Thanks for reading and if you leave kudos and/or comments thank you so much!  
> 


	22. Vertigo - part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben Solo is in the pilot's seat of the Millennium Falcon but things don't turn out how he and his companions expected.

Chapter 22 - Vertigo part 1

Ben yanked the yoke towards him at the same time his feet squeezed the pedals. He paused and glanced around, his heart syncopating with the whum whum of the ship’s engines.  
“My father,” he uttered, turning to his giant co-pilot. “Where is my father?”  
Uncle Chewie stared at him then opened his mouth and yowled.  
At the same Poe exclaimed, “Is this a joke? Your father? You...”  
Almost deafening him from behind, Rey shrieked, “Poe! Be quiet! Not now!”  
“What?” Ben asked, craning round to face Poe and Rey. Poe was glaring darkly at him, his lips pressed into a pale line. Chewie was moaning softly.  
“Ben, leave that for later,” Rey told him sternly and he knew by her expression it was bad. He knew that his father was indeed dead, but that there was something worse. That feeling of falling was accompanied by roiling sickness deep in his stomach. Tears blurred the view of the golden dice hung above him. He bit his lower lip to stop his mouth from trembling. He knew if he so much prodded at that memory of his father he would crumble into pieces. He refused to do that now, not at this moment, and certainly not in front of Poe Dameron.

Uncle Chewie whined again, his head bowed. Ben went to reach for him but then withdrew his hand.  
“We have to get out here now,” Rey urged. “If you’re not up to piloting, then Poe can do it.”  
“No!” Ben snapped, louder than intended. “I’m fine. Just give me a moment.”  
He shook himself, adjusted the headset, and swept his gaze over the instrument panel. It took a lot of effort to ignore Poe Dameron’s noisy huffs of irritation.  
Ben nodded at Uncle Chewie. “Initiate the flight sequence,” he directed.  
With a quick nod in return and a sharp roar, Uncle Chewie boosted the engines. Ben recognised the satisfying change in the sound to a sweet deep thrum. He didn’t hesitate. He pulled the yoke and pressed the pedals and in one quick blast they were high in the blustery sky.

Ben almost shouted and punched the air. The giddy joy of being airborne swept upwards through him from his toes to his hair. He savoured a couple of seconds of euphoria at the gravity defying rush before he was dragging at the control yoke, bracing himself against the seat.  
“This ship feels far too heavy,” he complained. “Is everything working?”  
Chewie replied in a series of aggrieved growls that it certainly was. Ben clutched the yoke tightly, trying to steady the ship on an even trajectory. They skimmed over deep grey sea and dots of green. The engines whined. Ben worked the pedals and cursed under his breath. His arms were starting to ache and his skin prickled with sweat.  
Poe leaned forward. “Punch that auxiliary power switch twice but quickly, Chewie,” he instructed.  
Chewie reached up and smacked the panel above him. The ship bounced and then steadied and Ben relaxed his grip a little. He read the navipanel and prepared to take the ship out of the planet’s orbit.  
He peered down the white-edged islands below, at the curve of the planet which had been his home. A beautiful safe place ruined by those men. He huffed out a sharp exhalation and with a snap on the controls he changed course.

“Wait,” Rey exclaimed as she felt the Falcon dipping down. “Ben? What’s going on?”  
“We’re not leaving yet,” he told her.  
Beside her Poe leapt up. “Why? What are you up to?” he demanded and Rey was horrified to see his blaster pointed at Ben.  
“Poe! Put that away!” she scolded.  
“Not until he tells me what he’s doing,” Poe asserted, levelling the weapon at Ben’s back. “Are you in league with those men, Kylo?”  
Ben whipped his head round, black brows angled down in anger. Rey shrunk back, seeing Kylo Ren’s furious expression she remembered from their fights. On her knee Girl squawked in alarm.  
“Don’t be stupid! Of course I’m not!” he retorted as the Falcon swept down and round in a graceful arc. “Never accuse me of that again,” he added.  
Rey heard the animosity in his low voice and shuddered. For a panicky second she wondered what they were all doing, what she was doing. The dark haired man swinging the Falcon down back down to Ahch-To seemed to be a stranger to her. Rey frowned at Poe, shaking her head, willing him to sit down. Chewie was also asking what they were doing and where they were supposed to land.

“Aah!” Ben gasped in annoyance as the Falcon banked steeply over the cliff edges of the familiar jagged island. “This lousy thing has serious heavy lag!”  
“Oh, I forgot,” taunted Poe, back in his seat but still grasping his blaster, “you’re used to customised high class First Order ships aren’t you, Kylo?”  
“I’m not Kylo,” Ben snarled as he turned the Falcon sharply again. Rey’s heart was racing as she tried to stay in her seat. Girl was squeaking and scrabbling on her lap and her arm was hot with pain. “I’m Ben Solo!” Ben shouted as the engines growled. “And this is my ship!”  
“Ben! It does not belong to you!” Rey argued impulsively. “You need to tell us what you’re doing!”  
“Listen to your girlfriend, Ren, and stop showing off,” Poe muttered. “I think we’ve all seen by now that you can fly pretty well.”

“I’m trying to find a place to land,” Ben answered, his shoulders hunched up as he whipped the Falcon in tight figures of eight over the grassy slopes below.  
“Land?” Poe blurted out as loud and squawky as a porg denied a fish. “You were so keen to leave and now you want to land? That’s crazy!”  
Chewie told them that there was only one suitable place and that he wasn’t going to set foot anywhere near those First Order creeps.  
“Nowhere else?” Ben inquired. “Are you sure?”  
“Yes!” Rey and Poe both cried out at once.  
Ben turned to face Poe, his face flushed, eyes thoughtful, lips pursed. “Okay, Dameron. You take over. Come on, be quick.”  
Poe let out a comical exclamation of surprise, but Ben had removed his headset and was unbuckling his seat restraint. “She’s all yours. Take her low.”  
Rey was staring at Ben in dismay. “Ben? What are you doing? Please tell me!”  
He glanced back at her as the cockpit door slid open. His brow was furrowed and his mouth was wet and red.  
“I have unfinished business,” he announced and then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this one and for comments and kudos! Means a lot :-)


	23. Vertigo part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben tries to pull off a dangerous stunt. Will anyone stop him before he gets into trouble or will be realise that his actions are reckless? Or will he just do it anyway?

Chapter 23 - Vertigo part 2

After snatching a blaster from a crate and jamming it into the back of his belt, Ben wrenched at the toppled Starhawk. It had been hastily left in the passage leading to the storage area. The round droid BB-8 bumped over to him, beeping and swivelling its head. Ben shooed it away, grimacing as the speeder bike screeched over the metal floor grilles. He lifted his head to swipe his hair from his eyes and wipe his damp forehead. Rey stood in the entrance to the narrow passage, fists clenched, a beautiful little fury with blazing eyes and flushed face. In front of her, BB-8 chirped and rocked to and fro, fixing him with his big black eye.  
Ben shook his hair out of his face and looked steadily at both of them. “Tell Poe Dameron to take the ship over the village,” he began in a ragged voice as he wrestled the speeder bike in front of the heavy curved metal door. He swung his long leg over the Starhawk’s low slung saddle. “He must circle round and drop her as low as he can. Rey, do it now!”

“What? No, Ben! Get away from the door!”  
The little droid shrilled and rolled nearer to him. Ben recognised the electroprod uncurling from the droid’s tool compartment. He shook his head and glowered at the droid.  
“Ben! Get off that bike!” Rey cried out.  
“No. I need to say goodbye to my carers,” he told her as he strapped on the helmet on and adjusted the straps. He experienced a chilling flash of memory, of Kylo, smoothing down his hair before slipping on the large ugly mask.  
Rey glared at him. “Well, you could have said!”  
He relented in the face of her anger. “Okay, yes, but I was busy seeking a place to land. That ground surveillance computer is next to useless. Then I tried to figure out how to get down there without landing the ship,” he explained quickly and gave her an apologetic little shrug. “Plus there’s the risk of those men.”  
He felt guilty, but his mind had been whirling and he was desperate to see his carers one last time. He owed them his life. 

He stared at Rey, pleading with his eyes, his mouth pursed in a sorry smile.  
It had no effect. Rey’s frown deepened.  
“Ben, please don’t risk it on the bike. Just don’t, please.”  
He tried to ignore her pained expression as he explained carefully. “Once we’re low enough you’re going to open the ramp and I’m going to fly this thing down to them.”  
“You can’t open the ramp in flight!” she disputed as she stepped between the nose of the speeder and the door. He felt her exasperation blast towards him like fuel fumes.  
He jutted his chin at her. “My father did.”  
“Never mind what Han did!” Rey countered. They stared at each other for a few beats. It felt so familiar, this adversarial stance. He remembered most of his encounters with her before with had been exactly the same. The realisation that he still seemed to possess the talent for annoying her wasn’t an unpleasant one; he had always been aroused by how ire heightened her beauty.  
He clutched the handles of the speeder defiantly, appreciating her darkened eyes, her flushed cheeks.  
“Ben! Get off that speeder bike and move away from the door! Now!”  
“Rey, please!” he shouted about the engines. “I have to do this! They saved my life!”

Rey was silent but she didn’t require words. Her face was as splendidly sullen as it had been when Kylo Ren been chasing her and taunting her and enticing her to no avail.  
She stepped aside with a sigh he could hear over the roars and rattles of the ship. As she sidled to the right of the wall Ben held his breath and prepared to ignite the speeder’s engine. Rey bypassed the door button and tugged out the comm link from the dirty panel next to it. Her motions were stiff with infuriation. She relayed Ben’s instructions to Poe in an emotionless command.  
Ben heard Poe’s consternation crackle back. “I can’t hover! I’m a brilliant pilot, but this isn’t a fancy First Order Command Shuttle!”  
Rey barked, “Poe! Just do it! Take her low!”  
“I told you! It’s going to be difficult!” Poe’s voice buzzed. Ben heard Uncle Chewie growl that Ben wasn’t too big for a cuff around the ear.  
“Please! I know it’s the most stupid, reckless request ever,” she turned back to Ben with a glare which could have melted paint from metal, “and he deserves more than a cuff to the head.” She pouted at him before turning away. “Poe, Chewie, if anyone can do it, it’s you two,” she uttered into the comm link. “Please try!”  
Ben heard grumbling from the cockpit before the link was severed then he felt the ship tilt again.  
Rey was at the door frame, one hand on her hip, the other on the button. “So, Ben Solo, how so do you plan to get back?”  
“Same way as I got out,” he answered drily. “But you must stay here and man the ramp, Rey. Open it partway, watch and then close it as soon as I’m out.”

Rey turned away from him, shaking with anger. She punched the button to open the ramp and wished her fist was smashing into his smug beautiful face. She didn’t know who she was angrier with; Ben for feeling entitled to carry out this ludicrous plan, or herself for being unable to stop him. His big beseeching brown eyes looked at her as they had done in the Throne Room and she had almost given in then. Except that was Kylo Ren. She realised that Ben Solo was impossible to resist. He was as exasperating to her, but more tricky and gorgeous than Kylo. She knew that he was powerful enough to overcome her just as if he had Force Frozen her.  
The door whooshed up and the hydraulics hissed. She stiffened as she felt the wind pull at her clothes and hair. She heard the Starhawk’s guttural sputter and felt her petulance surge with the sound of its engine.  
“Off you go then!” she called out, still turned away. “Go and risk your stubborn Solo ass on that speeder bike!” The bike’s engine roared and the Falcon dipped. Rey clung to the doorframe and squeezed her eyes shut. The wind whipped and blared and there was a squealing metallic sound. She didn’t want to watch her beautiful man launch himself down the narrow ramp into the air on her beautiful bike. She wouldn’t.  
“Go on! Get on with it!” Rey yelled over the din. BB-8 was spinning up and down the passage. The Falcon was lower, its engines thundering. “Just go ahead and split open your stupid head!”  
The ship tilted again and Rey lost her grip on the door frame, the wind was wild and the sound of twisting metal was becoming louder. She started to twist round to see where Ben was but another lurch threw her to the floor. 

There was a hiss and a screech but she could no longer hear the Starhawk. She groped to stand, trembling with panic. Then big arms were gathered around her, helping her up.  
“Ben?” she whispered. He yanked off his helmet, threw it on the floor and then he reached past her and slapped the button to close the ramp. As the door hissed down, he crushed her to him, one hand on the back of her head and the other clutching her butt. He kissed her hard, his mouth mashing over hers, then he quickly pulled back. “I’m sorry, Rey. Let’s get you and that little bird mended.”  
“A change of plan?” Poe’s haughty tone rang around the cockpit as Ben folded himself meekly into the seat behind him. “So you’re not going to break your neck flying out of the Falcon on a speeder?” He laughed derisively.  
“No, I’m not,” Ben answered quietly. He resented Dameron’s attitude but bore down on his irritation. Uncle Chewie emitted a roar of displeasure which Ben recognised from his youth. The huge hairy beast liked to chase off nasty local boys with the same cry.  
“I can’t wait to hear what your next plan is!” Poe continued, as the ship cruised over the ocean’s surface. “Though the first one would have suited me just fine. I should have flown over the sea and dropped you in there!”

“Poe!” Rey admonished as she appeared in the doorway.  
Ben swivelled round. “Rey, I told you to rest in the communal bunk just out there.”  
“I was,” she complained, “but then I heard shouting. And these guys escaped from their basket and were trying to get in here. At her feet Speckles and Red gazed up at him, flapping their wings.  
“And Girl?” he asked.  
“She’s asleep,” she replied, rubbing her own injured arm and wincing. “I gave her a little spoonful of tranquiliser.”  
Ben gaped at her, alarmed. “She took it? Are you sure she’s okay?”  
Rey nodded. “She was very good. It was only a small amount.”  
“You should try some on him,” Poe scoffed, flicking his head back at Ben.  
Ben tensed and flexed his hands. He remembered Dameron clearly now, the cockiness, the sweaty sneering face in his interrogation chamber. He bit down on his lip and then turned to Rey. He felt her concern, her bright love and he grasped it, holding it close to him. 

“When you’ve finished insulting me,” he said to Poe in a low steady voice, “I’d like to find another island to land on. Rey needs medical treatment and so does the bird.”  
Uncle Chewie growled his agreement and that he was also concerned that there was damage to the ramp.  
Ben flushed with shame. “I think you’re right about that. And I’m sorry. It was my fault. We need to check it out and it would be useful to prepare properly for our journey out of here.”  
Rey piped up, the birds flapping around on the floor. “Well, Poe?” she prompted as Red squawked and jumped up on Ben’s lap.  
“Does that sound sensible?” she added and Ben loved the way she tilted her head and raised one eyebrow. He knew he would never tire of being with her.  
Poe nodded and then turned to Chewie. “Begin scanning for somewhere flat. I’ll try and take her slow and steady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to work out how the Falcon's ramp and door operated and this article was very helpful! (The comms panel was my own addition though):  
> https://sites.google.com/site/millenniumfalconnotes/millennium-falcon-boarding-ramp


	24. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tender loving care is needed in this chapter - the Falcon's ramp, Girl the porg's broken wing, Rey's arm.  
> Ben and Rey finally get privacy to make love in the Captain's bunk. That's the best sort of healing. Enjoy! They certainly did.

Chapter 24 – Healing

Poe Dameron gracefully landed the ship on a tiny island on the other side of the planet. Ben silently admired his piloting skills and his rapport with Uncle Chewie. He felt the connection between the man and his Uncle glitter beneath the other darker emotions. He was amazed that he wasn’t jealous. Instead he felt reassurance while seated behind them in the cockpit. Curious, he was about to dip into the turbid waters of his memory when Uncle Chewie killed the engines with a gratified growl. Ben peered forward to glimpse the wide flat grassy shelf upon which the ship stood. A long shingle beach gently curved below and the waves which met it were small and delicately curled. Ben nodded at Uncle Chewie, scrambled from his seat and left the cockpit.

He was relieved to see Rey curled under a grey blanket in the communal crew bunk. She’d been reluctant to leave him in the cockpit but he’d insisted that she lay down. Girl was tucked into a wooden crate on the floor below the bunk. Ben could see her smooth brown back rising and falling steadily as she slept. Red and Speckles had been left to waddle about; Ben heard the curious coos of their meeting with the onboard family of birds.  
Rey opened her eyes. “We’ve landed? I must have dropped off,” she said drowsily.  
“Hey, there,” Ben sighed at the sight of her sweet face tipped up to him. “Yes, we have.”  
He stooped to deliver a tender kiss on her mouth. “It’s a good spot,” he informed her, stroking her hair gently. “They did well finding it.”  
He fussed with the blanket and kissed Rey again, savouring the soft warmth of her lips. Her tongue flicked out to meet his and he groaned softly.

“Really? Must you always be doing that?” Dameron’s disgusted voice interrupted them. Ben let the kiss linger, as much as to annoy Poe as to prolong the erotic pleasure. He longed to stay on the planet, safe inside the ship for days, holding Rey close, the world shrunk to the two of them, squeezed together, breathing and moving as one.  
He drew back gradually. Rey had risen on one elbow and was craning her head up to keep her mouth in contact with his. When they finally parted she let out a tiny squeak which sounded exactly like one of Girl’s aggrieved trills.  
Ben faced Dameron, aware that his erection was still rising. He pulled his tunic down and cleared his throat, pushing back his hair. Poe looked around awkwardly for a moment and then Ben gestured towards the ramp door. “After you, Poe Dameron.”

Poe stabbed at the door button. The metal door rose a little and shuddered. From behind it Ben heard the hiss of hydraulics followed by a squealing of metal which made him wince. Poe glared from his position by the door. The squealing grew louder and then stopped and Ben was very grateful for the silence. Moments later he was startled by a sequence of thunks which seemed to echo throughout the whole ship.  
“BB-8!” Dameron called to the droid. “See if you can open the door via the master circuits’ panel.” He shot Ben a reproachful look. “We need to see how much damage the ramp sustained.”  
Ben looked away, feeling the red wave of Poe’s anger surge towards him. He felt his own irritation swell and he clenched his fists at his sides.  
The door rose up in reluctant creaking judders and the droid rolled back to them, chirping triumphantly.  
“Good job, buddy!” Poe praised and bent to rub the droid’s round body. “At least we won’t need to climb out of some kriffing smuggler’s hatch.”

Ben moved to see through the open door, Poe ahead of him. Wisps of steam and smoke hung in the air together with a tangy stench of burning. The ramp was partly open; two of the hydraulic struts were bent.  
Dameron cursed and slapped the side of the passage. He rounded on Ben, his face reddening. “See! That’s what you do! You break thing! You do dangerous things! Kylo or Ben, you just can’t help it, can you?”  
Ben tensed and drew himself up. He was tempted to punch Dameron in the face. He flexed his hands and stepped forward. “Stop yelling at me and assess the damage properly,” Ben ordered in a steady quiet voice.  
Poe whirled around. “I don’t need to assess it properly!” his voice mimicked Ben’s on the last three words. Ben scowled, his face flushing.  
“This will take days to mend!” Poe exclaimed, pointing at the mangled metal. “That is, if we can mend it at all! I don’t fancy that journey through the Unknown Regions with a ramp hanging half open! Do you?”  
Ben said nothing while contemplating if it was worth smacking Dameron across the head. He was thrilled at the quick fierce heat of anger inside him. It felt familiar. It was almost as erotic as the desire he experienced when kissing Rey. His eyes locked on Poe’s and he stepped forward.  
Poe flinched back as Ben lifted his right hand.

He clapped Dameron on the shoulder. “I suspect it’s flown with worse damage, but we’ll fix it,” Ben commented, chin raised defiantly. “Together.”  
Poe glared at Ben for a few uneasy moments. Ben didn’t break his stare, his hand firmly on Dameron. He remembered that maintaining intimidating eye contact was something he had been accomplished at. Dameron’s mouth puckered and he huffed and rubbed his face.  
“I wish I’d shoved you out on that speeder myself and then flown off and left you behind,” he muttered as he shrugged off Ben’s hand.  
Ben watched him quietly as he marched into the storage area, pulling off his jacket, lifting up crate lids, rummaging and cursing.  
“Who do you think you are?” Poe gabbled as he flung an assortment of canvas bags and small boxes to the floor. Ben tried not to flinch at each clang, attempting to keep still and calm. He thought of Rey, reached out for her soothing presence.  
“You’re not Supreme Leader anymore; this isn’t even your ship!” Poe ranted breathlessly, clutching a wrench. “You can’t just come on board and start ordering me about! Plus we wasted fuel with all that flying overhead!”  
Uncle Chewie shambled in, followed by a couple of squawking birds which hopped around his giant fuzzy feet. He yowled at Poe to keep his voice down.  
“Me? Have you seen what he did? Look at that ramp!” Dameron pointed the wrench at Ben then quickly rounded on Uncle Chewie.  
“And you, Chewbacca! Just letting him get away with it! Just not .... not doing anything! You know what he’s done! You of all people! You saw what he did!”  
“Poe!” Rey yelled sharply as she appeared in the passage, her hair messy, the blanket draped over her shoulders. “Poe! Calm down please! I’ve had enough of you shouting,” her voice dropped and Ben was alarmed at how pale she appeared. She rubbed at her arm as she faced Poe. “If you can’t do it for Ben, then please do it for me.”  
Chewie yowled and stared at each of them and then strode off, shaking his head.  
They looked uncomfortably at each other for a few beats, Ben concerned about saying anything. Poe was still very agitated. The ship creaked around them as it cooled and settled. Ben moved closer to Rey, touching her hand.  
“Please, Poe,” Rey whispered.  
Poe exhaled loudly and bent back over the tool bag. More items clattered to the floor and the droid BB-8 chittered excitedly. Chewie reappeared with his toolkit, a pair of welding goggles hanging around his neck.  
“We’ll make a start on this,” Dameron turned to Ben truculently. “You tend to Rey and the porg. Go on,” he flapped his hand at Ben, not looking at him. “If we need an extra pair of hands we’ll let you know.”

Ben lifted Girl from her box with such care that Rey felt her heart tighten. He settled the bird in his lap, hushing it. The little porg was still drowsy from the medicine and Rey helped Ben fasten a splint to her tiny bent wing. Rey considered Force Healing, but she felt too shaken, too tired. As they nursed the porg she glanced at Ben, his eyes cast down in concentration, his lips moving. She fancied that he could try Force Healing, but she felt too shy to ask. He did it once and the cost was diabolical. She didn’t know what alchemy had been at work to transport him from Exegol to Ahch-To and how it would affect him in his new life. During one of her sleepless nights at the Resistance camp she’d hunched over the Jedi texts, her hair greasy and her eyes puffy. Confused and desperate, she struggled to comprehend the symbols and inky diagrams which seemed to indicate of some kind of nexus. But before she could explore more, tears had blurred her vision and dripped on to the thick warped pages.

“I’m so sorry, Rey,” Ben confessed as he dug inside the medipack. “You were right. I was stupid and reckless.”  
They had moved to the seats at the holochess table and Girl was dozing in her box on the crew bunk, the light turned low. Ben continued as he examined the assortment of wrappings and vials, “I was on the bike, on the ramp, in that narrow passage, the hydraulics hissed, and it began to open. I looked at the air and the land and they were moving and tilting and I imagined tumbling down. I felt such vertigo,” he admitted as he unfurled a dressing.  
Rey nodded. He paused and gazed thoughtfully at her. “I didn’t want to leave you, sweetheart.”  
A thrill of longing shivered through her at his words, uttered in his careful low voice. His eyes with their long sweeping lashes were fastened on hers and she recognised that the same thrill was coursing through him.

Then he was busy exploring the medipack again, talking softly. “I was suddenly terrified that I would drop into that void and never see you again.”  
“Oh, Ben,” she whispered and touched his large hand. “Don’t think like that.”  
“Too late, I already did,” he uttered with a gentle laugh and shook his head. From the medipack he fished out a small dented canister. Rey craned to see, hoping it was bacta spray. Her upper arm was now aching deep to the bone.  
“But you were going to let me, weren’t you?” he asked.  
Rey averted her eyes, uncomfortable. Ben leaned close, his nose almost touching hers. She felt his heat, smelled his sweat.  
“Yes, you know that,” she answered quietly.  
“Even though you were angry at me,” he remarked, carefully lifting up her arm.  
“I was,” she admitted in a hushed voice. She examined his face as he wiped her injured skin with a soft cool cloth, appreciating his long nose and his beguiling mouth. He sensed this and looked up at her, his dark eyes shining. He chuckled and tenderly kissed her charred skin.  
“Very angry,” he emphasised the last word with a growl worthy of Chewie and kissed her once more.  
Despite her discomfort she grinned. “Yes, you silly, infuriating man!”  
She rapped him on his hand and he laughed and playfully butted his head into her chest.  
Her hand moved in his hair, curling around the thick black waves. He pushed his head into her and moaned softly. Rey stroked him lovingly.  
“I know that you wanted to say goodbye to your carers. I know how much you feel for them,” she murmured.  
Ben’s arms slid around her. “I know you do and I love you for it,” he mumbled into her chest. He raised his head, sitting up. “I will come back, Rey. No, we will come back and we’ll thank them properly. Maybe for our honeymoon, Rey.”

He took her hands in his, kissed her knuckles. Rey laughed. She’d never imagined a honeymoon but now she did she yearned for somewhere lush and warm.  
“I prefer a place where the natives didn’t try to spear me and the food was better,” she confessed. Ben wiped her arm with a fresh cloth and she relished the coldness on her wound.  
“The food is good here,” he argued. “And they would love you when they get to know you.”  
“Some hopes,” Rey scoffed. She plucked the canister from the table. The lettering was partially scratched off. “Is this bacta?” she wondered aloud.  
“What’s that?” Ben inquired. “Is it more effective than my kisses?”  
He put his lips to her sore arm and then dotted more hot caresses up to her shoulder, to the nape of her neck. Rey gasped, struggling to resist. But it was overwhelming; the heat of his mouth, the delicacy of his actions juxtaposed with the size of him, his hair straggling over his face, his deep voice so close, whispering what he’d like to do to her.  
“The canister,” she managed to mutter as Ben nuzzled her neck. One of his hands was burrowing under her vest and she pushed her breast into his palm. It wasn’t just her arm which ached. She was fiercely aroused, using her good arm to curl around him and squeeze him to her.  
“Just spray it on me,” she groaned. He was pinching at her nipple and she almost came there and then. Anyone could have walked past; she could hear hammering and clanking from the ramp, Chewie’s growls and Poe’s exclamations. But she didn’t care and her words were as sloppy as Ben’s lips on her neck. “Just spray it, please, it must be bacta, just do it, Ben. Do it, and then take me to bed.”  
Rey felt immediate relief as the spray worked its restorative magic. Ben left the medipack and items strewn on the table and picked her up in his arms. He ferried her towards the Captain’s Quarters stopping twice to kiss her, his tongue exploring her lips and teeth. Rey was on fire for him.  
“I’m taking Rey to her bunk to rest,” he shouted towards where Poe and Chewie were working. “Please don’t disturb us ... I mean, don’t disturb Rey!”

In the cosy bunk room Ben laid Rey down on the wide bed. She felt both relaxed and aroused, and marvelled at the new potent sensation. She wondered if he remembered the room, but he was occupied solely with her, arranging the covers and pillows around her. As he did so, he tugged out his black sweater. He scrutinised it, frowning.  
Rey reached up to stroke it. “You recognise it?” she inquired cautiously.  
Ben was silent, his eyes moving over the material, his fingers rubbing, tracing its folds.  
“It was yours,” she announced.  
“Yes, it was,” he concurred slowly. “But why have you got it? It ...” his face worked, his mouth curling to one side. “It was what I wore in ... in that place.”  
“You vanished and left your clothes,” Rey recounted. “I took it so I had something of yours. I sleep with it.”  
She expected him to laugh at her but he appeared stricken. “Oh, Rey,” he sighed, and she saw his eyes brighten with tears.  
She pressed her mouth together, her own tears now close. “I missed you so badly. I thought I would die with the pain.”  
Ben smoothed it and meticulously folded it before stowing it on a stool. When he faced her she noticed a shiny streak on his cheek. He smiled but his chin quivered. “Well, I would be glad to wear it again for you,” he remarked as he stepped towards the bunk. “But I thought sex involved taking off clothes rather than putting them on.”

Rey smiled as she shifted over to make room for him. “I think sex can be whatever we want it to be.”  
“That’s fair,” he murmured as he rolled next to her. “But I would like it to be now.”  
He gathered her to him and kissed her. It was a different kiss to those which they had shared before; it was slow and deep and fluid. Rey closed her eyes and opened herself up to him.  
Ben’s hands roamed under her flimsy vest, feeling her breasts, her shoulders, her back. Rey was grateful for that canister of bacta. Her arm barely stung now, but even if it did there were other sensations which overpowered pain. She slid her hands into his tunic and caressed his smooth firm back. She had fantasized about his naked body ever since the Force Bond had opened when he was gleamingly shirtless. The kiss deepened and all she could hear was the rustle of bedding, their noisy breathing and trembling sighs.  
Ben broke off, his hand moving to her face. “You know, Rey, I think I could have made it down on the speeder bike,” he declared with a startlingly smug smile.  
“Oh yes?” Rey replied, her hand slipping beneath his waistband. “But made it down with this gorgeous ass in one piece?” She reached and squeezed one broad bare buttock.  
Ben pushed his hips into her and emitted a long moan. “Absolutely.”  
“And,” she added, her hand groping as eagerly as if she was scavenging a valuable piece of circuitry, “I was also worried about my speeder. It’s my pride and joy.”  
Ben kissed her greedily and flexed his hips again. “That rough old thing?”  
“Yes,” Rey affirmed. “I like salvaging things.” She reached around to his belly, tracing that enticing stripe of wiry hair from his navel. Ben shuddered in pleasure and his swollen lips parted above hers.  
She gazed at him. She didn’t have the words to express how working on the Starhawk was the first time the ache of her grief had abated a little. She didn’t know if she could ever convey her desolation over losing him. She could only show and tell him how much she wanted him, how much she loved him. 

She stroked his face tenderly with her other hand. Ben smiled sweetly, his eyes gleaming.  
“You can salvage me,” he instructed her. “I’ve some parts here which need some serious maintenance.” He reached for her hand which was on his waistband. He took it slowly and placed in lower. Rey exclaimed at the sizeable hardness under her palm.  
“Ben, you’re so ...” she began.  
“I know,” he breathed into her neck. “Blame yourself, Rey. You have that effect on me. I want you completely, sweetheart. No disappearing and no interruptions. Do you want me?”  
“Ben ... need you ask,” she uttered as her hand rubbed him through the thin material of his trousers. He was so hot, pulsing. That same pulse was inside her, radiant with love. “After all,” she said teasingly, “we were so close in the hut, weren’t we?”  
And in one delicious flowing movement she slid off her own trousers and opened her legs around him.  
He pushed his trousers down his thighs, too excited to remove them completely. Rey was more agile and had stripped herself completely naked, but he was shaking and it made him clumsy.  
Rey soothed him, helping him to wriggle out of his tunic. She moved with him, skin to skin, and he melted like one of the wax candles in his old island hut. The warm, loose relaxed feeling of caressing each other.

He had never felt more whole.

Nothing else mattered but being inside Rey. If Ben had been inside a woman he didn’t remember it being like this. He recalled a mouth or two, being intrigued and flattered then disgusted at them, at himself, and shoving them away roughly. He squeezed his eyes shut, nestled his head in the sweet damp hollow of Rey’s shoulder and plunged into her. 

Rey groaned and rocked her hips in perfectly exquisite time with his thrusts. It was so easy. Even so, he clutched the padded pillow and braced his feet on the bottom of the bunk to gain more sweet friction from her blazing slickness. He panted and pushed hard and deep. Rey took him gladly, sucking him further inside. He gasped and groped to find her mouth to kiss her. He gazed at her beneath him, her small breasts wobbling rhythmically, her hair tangled on the pillow, her eyes half open and black with delirious desire, her mouth red and supple, welcoming his. It was too much, too intense, and before he could pull back into coherence his thigh muscles turned rigid as the spasms began. His hips bucked several times and his mind split into stars, spiralling and cascading. He cried out, a powerful guttural noise bursting from deep inside his chest. He had no idea he could even make such a sound. Rey was everywhere. She was outside him, engulfing him. She was inside him, healing him with waves of light. She was his galaxy into which he scattered and then was reformed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this one. I am always wary of writing sex scenes and this one was tricky as it had such a big build up but I liked how it turned out. Comments and kudos are always really appreciated!


	25. Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey's reaction to her and Ben making love for the first time, Poe's attitude to Ben and the crew preparing the Falcon to finally leave Ahch-To.  
> This is the last chapter in this work though later in 2021 the story will continue in a new work.

Chapter 25 - Sand

“I need more practice,” Ben confessed gloomily as he sat up on the side of the bunk. He sighed loudly. “It was far too quick. I’m sorry, Rey.”  
Rey rolled onto her side, stretching out her hand to stroke his back. “It’s fine,” she reassured him. “You can be my Padawan.”  
“My what?” he asked as he ambled across to the compact galley. He was naked, his back to her as he started to pull out cups and press switches. She admired his body, his wide shoulders, his smooth round butt, the shadowy glimpse of his genitals swinging between his legs as he stepped from foot to foot. She considered where they had been only moments earlier and she touched herself between the legs. It had been very fast; she had just started the sweet rhythm of her own climax when Ben had groaned, tensed and then sunk onto her. She was still swollen and horny but she was also desperately drowsy.

She heard the splash of water and the clink of stirring and Ben humming to himself. She grinned. Ben returned to the bunk with two cups of sweet-smelling herbal tea.  
“My Padawan,” she repeated slowly. “I’ll explain another time.”  
They sipped their tea leisurely and wordlessly, content to listen to the slow steady thrum of the ship’s standby power. Rey heard intermittent muted thumps from Poe and Chewie’s ramp repairs; the thin shrills of BB-8.  
She rested her cup on the narrow shelf at the side and twisted onto her side. Shaping the pillow to her liking she murmured, “Let’s sleep now, Ben. I’m exhausted.”  
Quietly Ben curled up around her back, his hands around her waist, his head nestled in the nape of her neck. She felt him soften around her and she absorbed his heat. This was the comfort she had craved in her metal home adrift in the Jakku sands.  
“I love you, Rey,” he told her, the whisper tickling her hair, the words caressing her soul.  
“I love you, Ben,” she answered, snuggling further into him. “I never want to be apart from you again.”

Ben woke a while later, aware that someone was close by. The bunk lights had dimmed and he had rolled onto his left side at some point, his arms folded around himself. It was his default sleeping position, adapted from years alone in narrow beds.  
Rey had tucked herself behind him, her hand on his hip, her face pressed between his shoulder blades. He felt her damp breaths on his skin. He yawned and wriggled to rid his muscles of the heaviness of the warm nap.  
There was a knock on the door, soft at first then a little harder. Dameron’s voice called out.  
“Hello? Are you okay, Rey?”  
Ben tugged a sheet around his waist and shuffled to the door, smoothing his hair down, wiping his mouth. Dameron couldn’t conceal his mortification when the door hissed open.  
“Rey’s fine,” Ben replied casually, one hand leaning on the door frame, the other holding the sheet around his hips. “She’s sleeping.” He turned to look appreciatively at his lover in the bed behind him.  
“And ... you? What were ... you ...” Poe uttered.  
Ben was amused that Poe’s flustered eyes didn’t know what to land on; Ben’s naked torso directly in front of him or Rey snoozing on her side behind him. Her dark hair was straggling on the pillow, the bedclothes draped to allow a coy glimpse of her creamy curvy ass.

“I was also sleeping,” Ben answered, relishing Poe’s reddened face. It was almost revenge for Dameron bursting into the hut just as he was about to slip into Rey.  
Ben stared down at Poe, holding the uneasy silence between them as if it was a trinket he was examining. Finally he asked, “Is everything okay? How’s the ramp?”  
“It’s almost there,” Poe replied awkwardly. “I think it’ll take a few more hours. If you can help out ... that would be ... yes, really helpful.”  
He held his gaze steadily up at Ben’s face, keeping his eyes above Ben’s chin. Ben nodded. “For sure. I would like a bit more rest first.”  
Poe’s mouth twisted and he looked down. “Yes, rest ...”  
“Rey’s doing well,” Ben reassured him. “We found a healing spray for her arm and I made her some herbal tea.”  
“Herbal tea?” Poe croaked.  
“I can make you some if you’d like,” Ben offered. “You know, later, perhaps with some food.”  
Poe nodded, lost for words for a moment. “Food ... yes, that’s what I came to tell you,” he started. “Chewie went exploring and ... he caught some fish. Looks pretty decent. There’s a kind of salty leafy vegetable ... so he’s trying to combine them into a stew.”  
“That sounds good,” Ben admitted and it did. He remembered the chunky stews his carers supplied him with. He recalled their scrumptious belly-filling bread, the heartening warmth of the fire. He felt that pang of sadness again. He would return to them. He would bring his children here to them.

“Look,” Poe said, his voice steadying, “I mean, what happens now? Where do we go? Do we return to our base? We injured Targen and Beyanga.”  
“You didn’t. You’ll be off the hook.”  
“I don’t think so,” Poe disagreed, chin raised so he could maintain eye contact with Ben. “They might clap me in irons when they see me with my new pal Kylo Ren.”  
He sighed and then his eyes slid past Ben’s shoulder. “Rey is okay, though?”  
“Yes, don’t worry, I’m looking after her,” Ben answered firmly.  
“With no clothes on.”  
Ben looked at Poe and grinned. “Yes, with no clothes on.”  
Poe laughed incredulously and rubbed his eyes. “She’d better be okay.”  
“She is okay,” Ben reiterated. “She’s the most important thing in the galaxy to me.”  
Poe nodded, and Ben noticed that he had relaxed a little. He had lost that awkward flush and was regaining coherent speech.  
“Well, I’ll leave you to, uhm, rest. You’ll need your strength to help us finish the ramp repairs.”  
Ben agreed before closing the door and returning to the best place in the galaxy, beside his sweet sleeping Rey. 

Rey’s hunger woke her. This was a familiar feeling; she was always famished on Jakku. But unlike then she was deeply satisfied inside. The Force Bond between her and Ben felt smooth and easy, like a fast running stream. She unwound herself carefully from his embrace. He snored erratically, his square shoulder rising and falling like the sea she sensed outside.  
She slowly emerged from the crumpled bunk, tucking the sheets around Ben’s large slumbering form. His eyelashes were feathered against his cheek, his full mouth curved in a tiny smile. She stared in wonder at her man. Those other times she’d had sex, endured solely for food, were all annihilated by him.  
She finally felt like a beautiful woman because of Ben; the physical sensation of having taken him inside her, of feeling him come inside her, the trickles of his fluid on her thighs. Her flesh held that memory, her insides were moulded differently. She kissed his shoulder, licking the saltiness of his skin, and was rewarded with a deep drowsy grunt of pleasure. She would have stayed there watching him for hours but for her growling stomach.

As she rummaged for her clothes she wondered if her implant was still functional. She had one at great expense on Jakku when the medidroids arrived at Niima. It rendered her temporarily infertile and protected against her against many diseases. She wanted Ben’s child, but not yet. She glanced at him before she left the quarters. For now she wanted her big dark hunky man all to herself, to love and cherish him with her body and soul.

Rey was forced to step around a flapping bunch of porgs on her way to the communal area. She recognised two of Ben’s among them; the skinny ginger one looked like it was taking charge of its new posse. She checked the box containing Girl, satisfied that the small brave bird was sleeping as peacefully as her human companion.  
At the table, Chewie and Poe were slurping steadfastly over bowls of stew. It looked grim and slimy but smelled delicious. Rey drew up a tin barrel as a stool and Poe handed her a bowl. Chewie stood to serve her, slopping the food from a sooty pot.  
“I’m starving. Thanks, Chewie,” she responded happily and he growled and hugged her. She squeezed him back, wondering about him and Ben. Chewie seemed to have accepted Ben without question, just as she had done. He had been on Starkiller Base when Ben had faced Han, he had seen the murder. He had an unimpeded head shot; his bowcaster would have decapitated Kylo Ren yet he had aimed low. As she snuggled gratefully into the Wookie’s coarse warm fur she felt surges of the deep protective love he had for Ben. 

“I knocked at the door a while back. To check on you,” Poe told her as he scraped his spoon around his bowl.  
“Oh!” Rey exclaimed, embarrassed at Poe hearing their symphony of sex noises. “We were just ...”  
Poe waved his spoon at her. “You were asleep. I knocked on the door. Kylo ... uhm, Ben ... Ben came to see what I wanted.”  
The name. She acknowledged this with a tiny nod and smile.  
“He reassured me that you were okay. Your arm had been treated and he’d ... Ben had made you tea.”  
Rey exhaled. “I must have been knocked out. I didn’t hear anything.”  
“I told him he’s required to help finish the ramp,” Poe added.  
“And?”  
“He said that was fine. He was going to sleep longer and then he would give us a hand.”

Poe was quiet as he licked his spoon, his face thoughtful. “This is like a weird dream, Rey,” he muttered. “I mean, he kind of looks like Kylo Ren but he’s not, is he? I’ve never seen that. He moves differently, his eyes look different.”  
“Poe, he is Ben Solo. Kylo Ren doesn’t exist anymore.”  
Chewie added in an emphatic set of moans that he had missed Ben greatly. Then he added firmly that the man in there was his Ben, his chaotic brave boy.  
“Yeah, yeah, so you both say,” Poe said irritably. “Just don’t expect me to become friends with him, or even like him. He’s still an arrogant fucker.”  
Chewie growled and nudged Poe with his elbow.  
“He is.” Poe muttered under his breath. “You know it.”  
Rey conceded with a nod. “I think he likes to get his own way.”  
“Absolutely,” agreed Poe. “Though his mother does too.”  
Rey smiled as she poked her spoon into the stew. The lumps of fish within were soft and salty. “Don’t forget as Kylo he was Commander of the First Order and then Supreme Leader of the Galaxy. He’s been used to people following his orders,” she remarked.  
“As if I need reminding,” Poe huffed. “Well, there’s enough stew left for him. But I won’t be dishing it up for him like some servant.”  
Chewie yowled with amusement and said no, that was his job. He would look after Ben and enjoy it.

Poe drained his cup of water and left to oversee BB-8 who was adjusting the ramp’s electrical circuits. Ben emerged shortly afterwards, his tunic crumpled, hair sticking up, eyes moist and puffy. Rey wondered if he’d been crying and panicked that he’d remembered killing his father. She glanced breathlessly at Chewie who tilted his head sharply as if to acknowledge her thoughts.  
She was afraid for Ben remembering that. It was an unsaid thing, as slippery and inevitable as the dark hole which led to the darker cave. It felt intrusive and wrong to ask him so she vowed not to.  
It was a horrific memory for her. The part which tormented her the most was when Kylo paused and seemed to surrender, to reach out for his father.  
She shivered at the table, watching Ben slyly as he rubbed his eyes and smoothed back his hair from his forehead. She longed to smooth it for him, reached and then drew back. Ben yawned and took up a spoon and scooped stew into his mouth, hunched over the small table. Rey and Chewie looked at each other carefully, silently.

At sunset Rey strolled on the beach in the soft amber light. Four porgs followed her, including Ben’s two. The fat spotty one waded into the incoming tide, snapping at the water with astonishing ferocity. Rey clapped as he emerged with a small flipping fish in his jaws. She herded the birds back up the sand where the Falcon stood, glinting prettily with the orange and yellow rays from the sinking suns. The ramp was almost down. Ben was easing the kinks from the last of the hydraulic pistons with Poe. She glimpsed their shapes, heard their faint voices and an occasional gruff laugh. Rey had offered her expertise but the space was limited by bulky tool crates on the ramp and BB-8 rocking merrily underfoot. She helped Chewie in the cockpit for an hour, running power tests and inspecting the navicharts before electing to enjoy watery Ahch-To alone.

It wasn’t long until she felt his presence, a twist of light and dark, a mix of calmness and commotion. She no longer feared it as she had with Kylo. It was different with Ben; it settled easily with her, like sand in rock crevices. It kept rhythm with her as the wind did with the waves.  
Ben lumbered towards where she sat cross-legged in the shelter of a shallow dune. The wind pulled at his hair and clothes and she marvelled at his size, his shape, his solidity.  
“Finished?”  
“Yes,” he answered, folding himself into a sitting position beside her. Instinctively Rey drew near to him, nudging under his arm.  
“Thankfully even that last support is now functioning,” he went on, gathering her to him. “Though Poe was telling me that I should just use the ... the Force.”  
“Oh, well, did you?” Rey asked, trying to sound casual.  
“No,” Ben replied quickly. There was a pause. Rey stared at the clouds, radiant with the suns’ light, cracks of gold shimmering within like Ben’s Force pulse. “Is that what you call it, that ... that power?” he asked.  
She regarded him and the tightening of his brow and the twitch of his mouth indicated that he knew this already. It was more elemental on Ahch-To than she thought possible. They both looked at the glowing sea sliding up and down the flat shiny sand. 

“Yes, the Force. But it may have other names,” she told him softly. She reached to stroke his cheek, the same one which she had sliced in their first battle. It was unmarked now, though she noticed that he appeared weary, his skin pale and rough. A couple of pimples were reddening around his nose.  
“I don’t know if I could just summon it,” he explained in a low voice. He stared ahead thoughtfully. “It’s come to me, like the wind. Only a couple of times, the strongest was with those men.”  
“It will come back, Ben,” said Rey. “If you want it to.”  
Ben sighed and rested his head on his knees.  
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his words muffled. He remained crouched over and Rey rubbed his back. She sensed his confusion, his fear. It was chilling him just like the sea breeze did in the suns’ waning warmth.  
With a small moan he straightened up and stretched. He looked at her, his eyes moist and pink.  
“The one thing I do know,” he began, taking her hand in his, “is that I’m never letting you go again, Rey. I mean it. I am never going to be parted from you.”  
“I know you’re all I want, Ben,” Rey responded, squeezing his hand hard. “I don’t care about anything else.”  
“That’s good, because I mean it. You’re stuck with me now, Rey.”  
She smiled at him and kissed his mouth, slowly, delicately. He grasped her and crushed her lips with his. He was a greedy kisser and it was something she was becoming accustomed to. His tongue plunged and his hand gripped the back of her neck. She pushed into him, both hands in his hair. After a few moments they drew apart, panting.  
Ben brushed at the front of his tunic, pushed back his hair and let out a deep breath. “Look out there, Rey,” he instructed, nodding towards the wide streaky horizon. “Just look. What is out there? My past?”  
“Yes,” she acknowledged, “but also your future.”  
“Our future,” he corrected sharply. “Ours, Rey,” he added, his voice softer but his eyes still intense. He kissed her again, his hands roaming over her. Rey broke away, craning back to the ship behind them. The Falcon was alone; the area around the ramp was tidy. She was aroused and rapidly assessed the comfort of their sandy bed.

Ben dipped his head and nuzzled her neck. She weakened in his arms, like when he was attending to her arm earlier, kissing that ticklish soft spot above her shoulder. He sucked at her skin, whispering. “Tomorrow we leave here, Rey.” His words were by her ear. “So for my last night I’d like to be how I was when I woke up here.”  
“How’s that?” she gasped as he nipped and nibbled.  
“Naked,” he informed her as he quickly pulled off his tunic and tugged at his trousers. Rey fumbled out of her clothes and climbed onto him. She opened herself to him and began rocking and flexing. He pulled her to him, bringing her mouth onto his. His hands slid from her shoulders to knead her butt, drawing her as close to him as possible. Nothing else mattered at that moment but being together with Ben. Rey closed her eyes and the only thing she could hear was the beating of their hearts and the crashing of waves.

\--- The End --- for now .....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and sticking with this over the last year! Finally got the energy to give it the final chapter I felt it deserved.  
> Of course, as the story of Ben and Rey on the Falcon with Poe, Chewie and BB-8 will continue, it was hard to decide on a cut off point. 
> 
> This will be back later this year as a new work.
> 
> Where will they go? How will Ben cope with more memories of his past? Will we see Targen and Beyanga again? There will be reunions with Finn and Leia. Ben decides to make a hard choice and Rey faces a different future to what she imagined when she left Ahch-To with Ben. More angst, eroticism and drama and porgs!
> 
> Thank you again for kudos and comments. If you're enjoyed this story please share it with others.
> 
> Meanwhile, I'll be back at Easter with a brand new Reylo AU set in New York and London called 'Suite 19' - much angst and a ton of smut.
> 
> Take care and keep safe, Reybearsnaughtypaw xx


End file.
